WRESTLMANIA

I had a professor once, actually a lot

of them walked through my head at

one time or another, trying to spill

their beans, hoping they might take

root and grow so tall I would be able

to climb to the tops of clouds and

wrestle with giants.

One of them said “The only way we can

think is with words.” Then, according to

Descartes, The more I can say, the more

I am? Our words make the phosphorus

storm in the dark cavern where we knit

ourselves into a comfortable sweater

measured by some technician with an

electroencephalogram.

Or are we more than the sum of our

vocabulary? How else can we

figure out what the hell is going on?

I’ve heard even the comatose use them

just in case their muscles and bones wake up.

Is there some way to know beyond what

we can say when armed with the O.E.D.?

Are the thoughts of crows, dolphins, pigs

and chimps conceived in some other way?

Do they care about God; do they have

existential crises; do they ponder beauty?

What do they think of us, their stewards,

sowing destruction wherever we go?

We are what we think, we are what we eat,

but we are rarely what we say. Maybe we

are what we ask? Maybe we are alone in a

sea of bits and pieces and each adds another

ion to fire when we are slapped in the face

by circumstances beyond our control, our

jigsaw never even close to completion.

But words cannot be enough, there is so

much out there we don’t even know needs

a name. What is the nature of, how do you

define, the difference between spirit and soul?

What if Socrates was right when he told his

Philistine judges “The unexamined life is not

worth living?” What is a life spent “not worth

living?” Is it just another nebulous bit of cosmic

detritus without meaning? Are they anything

more than that sperm and egg who never met and

were sloughed off in the toilet? Do the crows,

dolphins, pigs and chimps, or The Talking Dead

even have a soul, and if they do, what’s the point?

Reviews

[Soren]

A wonderful soliloquy pondering the language and worth of a soul. "We are rarely what we say" so true language a web of lies to catch flies. Language used as what sets us apart from animals, a mute (sic.) excuse, simply because we use a tongue and vocal chords to communicate do not other species use other methods possibly just as effective? Souls the last bastion of humanity, surely if there is such a thing beyond consciousness, we would be the only thing under creation privileged to have one. Great write with deep philosophical points

[Vol]

Thank you, Soren. I have loved words all my life... they are my favorite toys.
Vol

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

I enjoyed the philosophical question this poem asks of its audience. Art is at its most powerful when it asks us to examine the existential question. I'll be honest when I read the title I was expecting something about The Rock, Steve Austin, John Cena, and others. I truly didn't expect Socrates to be a part of this illuminating and very vital discussion this piece demands of us. An effective and thought provoking piece of poetry. CLE

[Vol]

CLE,
Thank you... I think about art a lot... Any given piece no matter the genre, should stand alone wherever it is found. like a cut jewel. And the difference between it and any other bit of things that are made is when experienced, that person will never be the same. I remember seeing movies where someone was in a museum was sitting and staring at some painting... I came from an artistic family and wondered about that... until I saw Renoir's "Luncheon of the Boating Party." I'd probably still be there is the museum was still open... I used to tell my students that you can tell it's art because it has fangs and carries a gun...
Vol

[John the Baptist]

Actually, I think pigs do have an existential crisis. It's called bacon.

[Vol]

Hmmm... I wonder if they take time to meditate on their Pork Belly buttons?
Vol

[Lorry]

Well I can't believe you forgot the great philosopher Popus Eyeus who said I is what I is! 😃
The only book I ever read that even came close to animal husbandry never even mentioned dreams but I recall that one of them thought that four legs were good and two were bad, until later on in life it reversed that thinking.
And now I'm wondering if pigs smell bacon when they sweat!
In fact the more you try to stop your mind questioning things, the less chance there is of that happening.
And as I think of will it be another good day tomorrow, weather wise I can't help but think of that last little piggy in the nursery rhyme that didn't get to go to market, or stay home. Neither did he have roast beef. He just kept eating his swill until a bolt ripped through its skull, then got sliced and cooked into that delicious bacon sandwich I had for lunch!
One final thought though. How annoyed would you be if the first thing you heard when you got to heaven was that to stop thinking and get a dreamless night's rest all you had to do was wiggle your toes next to the big toes to the tune of the lone ranger to switch yourself off and on again? Which kinda goes to prove there is such a thing as too much thinking! 😃

[Ms claws]

Hi Darling, I think I know what an electroencephalogram is, the investigative people use them. Is your mind like the universe they say is expanding?
I don't know much but after reading you, I feel like a genius has touched my brain.
I think animals don't have souls because what's the point? Their goal is to survive, mate, eat, and wander off to die. Hmmm.
You always make me feel like I need to do research...and that's making me, at least, not so dumb.
Thanks, Vol.

[Vol]

Eternity,
Sweetheart! What nice things you say!
I don't know ANYTHING, and the more i read the less I realize I know, much less understand. I just stand on this box I carry around and spout off what I THINK. No matter what it is, no matter how infinite or eternal, it has no meaning at all when compared to time spent in a warn nest with the one you love.
Vol

[Ms claws]

@Vol, if only I could reach you through you messages on that other site... We could have the keyboards buzzing. Some kind of glitch prevents me from reaching you. I can see you, though, and you are as heart warming as ever. Your flobama hat...sexy!