The Four Ages 2 – Fire Time

[Last post was Part 1 of The Four Ages suite of poems: Air Time (childhood, spring). This is part two: Fire Time (youth, summer). Photo is from Pina Bausch’s dance theatre production The Rite of Spring.]


Fire Time

The wrath of Achilles is my theme, that fatal wrath […]
Let us begin, goddess of song, with the angry parting […]
– beginning of Homer’s Iliad

I am always at the edge
of something. I don’t like it, but
I want a hero.

Now I am a hesitant hero,
hairy thighs, stubble chin,
semen-soiled undies, standing
at the traffic lights. Everything
is extreme: my heat, my coldness.

To feel myself I need another
body to hit or love.

This dark current down there
is pulling me away from home.
Home has become a cosy
green bottle. As the current
drags at the chain I fear
the breaking.

I rage for another body.
I get concrete. I get images
made by others. I seek mirrors
and fear them. I want
adventure, excitement, risk.
I get movies, video games, fast cars.

I rage for another life, another
horizon, I get job training
and haircuts. To drift true
to my current I must rebel.

My true home is utopia.
I sway in the flesh waves
of my sisters and brothers, alive
and in rage at the outrages,
the reasonableness.

My passion is burning
to find me but I just feel
the flames.


~ by Peter Lach-Newinsky on October 1, 2016.

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