couch of sensation
couch of sensation
by jessica tedder
There are strange people sleeping on my couch
A cataclysm of nuisance and sex
and derived joy from animal pleasure
Sensation is key
Sensation is all that we live for
so we want to feel it fully
Stark hallucinations and words-
that are usually damned
flowing out mouths with smoke
Loud music, hollering, dancing,
loosening, arms waving
Freedom; freedom is here
Somewhere inside this pill
Freedom is somewhere,
somewhere inside this drink
Sobriety is somewhere inside the confusion
of misusage and misunderstanding
of the nature of detachment
Ahh, sowing of the wild oats…getting it out of our system so we can move on to a more enlightened path…or an end unto itself propulgated by the cultural contradictions of capitalism? I was thinking about this same observation put forth in the poem just the other day in relation to the alleviation of stress. There’s a little truth in hedonism, sometimes quite a lot, and there’s a good case for asceticism. But finding the balance the balance the balance seems to be key to LIFE in regards to so many things.
The poem, centered around a ‘couch’, does an effective job pin-pointing the psychological modus operendi of the ‘eat, drink, and be merry’ way of life. It’s always a [pleasure] to read the works of a bodhisattva-poet, Milarepa would be proud.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I will seek my own nature of detachment inside a benadryll pill {sleep wonderful dreams…Perie Banou, comfort me in your silken lap and slowly sift your fingers thru my hair so the worries of the world will fade…