Description: Let me preface this poem by saying that I am in fact an advocate of meditation. However, while recently pursuing a weekend escape to collect my thoughts etc., it occurred to me that upon return from my escape I would face the same roller coaster of routines, problems, gripes etc.
Anyway, I won't go any further into this as I would really like your ideas, comments and interpretations on it. :)
Intro into Meditation -------------------------------------------
We leave the concrete urbanscapes
for the tonic of weekend escapes,
we queue for harmony, meditation, tai chi,
where Christianity is no longer in vogue.
But when the weekend draws to a close
and the ambivalence of our beliefs
peeks from under a scourge of self-help:
relaxation goes on respite
the green man becomes a ghost
our bonsai bombs
the heart crystal cracks
and harmony harps back to whose turn it was to wash up.
One in four suffer from depression,
while two in four live in destitution,
and our parents talk of the good old days
as McDonalds pin-ups starve and rampage.
Disassociation is now all the rage,
a by-product of the business of living
where celebrity poster-children
are idolised for bedroom videos and fashion.
"A scourge of self-help", this is a cracker line! And the whole piece reverberates with this anti-mantra.
Yeah, there's something sick out there, and despite the initial facade in this poem, it's obviously not the remedies your dissillusioned with. It's the attitude behind it. The idea of the quick fix, which in our current lifestyles is no different to the practice of popping a pill to make the troubles go away.
These are the reactions of the desperate, grasping for something that will break us out of the monotinous fear and loathing that percolates around us, in our own minds.
Yeah, this speaks directly to me, as i've been once again wrestling with my own desperation again. Interestingly though, part of my toil has been the fight against the desire for a quick fix. A book i have reread recently talks of these feeling as being wholly natural, and the urge to relieve them quickly as being a missed opportunity and a denial of the natural process. For an escapist these are hard words to hear.
At the same time, i've done retreat things before as well, and when they work (you've really got to give more than a weekend) i've really felt revitalized - and leaped into the washing up with gay abandon! Actually, that is probably the best measure of how i'm feeling, whether i really want to wash up.
Back to poem though, there really is a strong sense of bitterness here, permeating throughout. About lifestyle itself, about the lack of harmony in modern civilizastion, which actually emphasises the message that these alternatives offer. Interesting point to think about is that maybe they are really trying to offer a real alternative to city life, rather being just a high cost urban retreat. Every time i've escaped my urban routines i've found this to be true - despite not practicing any hippy crap at the time, unless you think of golf as meditation.
Aside from the theme, this was really well written too, it meanders a bit, but more like a boxer dancing around, occasionally delivering a sharp jab to the jaw.