Relishing the Absurd

“Up the creek without a paddle”

A saying you must have heard,

Like in the midst of life’s huge ocean

Being guided by the absurd.

“The Emperor’s new clothes” is another:

Stark naked but fully dressed,

It’s what I want so don’t you bother

I am not having any stress.

It is sanity and madness

Profanity mixed with gladness,

Why should my pursuit of euphoria

Cause you such grief and sadness?

All for me and I for me

It’s what I want that matters,

There are all of you but one of me

And all that matters is the latter.

Up the creek without a paddle

Now fast approaching the fall,

For a while back there it wasn’t so bad

Now nobody answers my call.

Amidst the tumult of the rapids

My raft rocking to and fro,

About to be jettisoned any moment now

Experiencing the “I told you so”.

I did not listen, just like the world

I saw it my own way too,

The fall approaches and I am doomed

In spite of all that I knew.

Warning after warning came my way

But the pleasure was such a balm,

Up the creek without a paddle

But everything appeared to be calm.

No compass or guide except the urge

To please me and only me,

Around me, the entire world revolved,

Surely everybody could see.

Who needs a paddle when all is well?

Who needs an oar or governor?

Not me at that time but surely now!

Now I am facing such horror.

Acceptance of death instead of life

Was the choice of our fore-parents,

The gift of life is on offer again

But the majority refuses to repent.

We are not very bright; it clearly shows

The lessons of life we do not learn,

We will make it without God above

And His grace we will continue to spurn

So, we are up a creek without a paddle

And we feel all is well and good,

We have no idea of the approaching fall

For we are not seeing as we should.

Charmed by the glitter that grabs our gaze

The unreal obscures the real

And, severely distracted by Satan’s ploy,

Unheeded goes the Spirit’s appeal.

A little bit more till I have had my fill

To be saturated being my intent,

Just a little bit more while I have time

When I have had enough, I will repent.

Up the creek without a paddle

May have been the issue in the past,

But now being tossed in the foamy rapids

Speaks to a far more humongous task.

The state of our world is so similar

As men seek to satisfy their urge

And with every passing day, we note,

Enormous societal ills emerge.

Packaged in a so-called golden wrap

To bamboozle the least suspecting,

Exchanging the peacock for the feather

Refusing life and death accepting.

Stewart Russell © September 2019

The Visible Trap

When he said I do

He was done

He’d just begun

But the end had come.

In the euphoria of the moment

He enjoyed himself

Knowing only too well

He had invited ill health.

The warnings were there

The counsel was clear

But having made up his mind

He must serve the time.

What a beautiful face!

What a bewitching smile!

What a tender embrace!

What alluring guile!

She’s not for you

Advised more than a few,

All along he knew

She knew it too.

But she walked by his side

Back down the aisle

He was her prize

However they despise.

From a well-to-do family

He was well bred,

No doubt in her mind

He she would wed.

And that she had done

As she took their son

All was legal and right

He was hers from that night.

A life of misery ensued

Far beyond expectation

And though they lived together

There was chronic rejection.

  

But he had said "I do"

And "I do" he would keep

But his warning to the unwed

Is, “look before you leap.”

All that glitters is not gold

We’ve been repeatedly told,

Choose wisely and sleep well

Or with the devil prepare to dwell.

Samson you would recall

Saw Delilah as his all

But in her tender embrace

He had a terrible fall.

A face was all it took

With a bewitching smile,

Delilah had claimed her prize

And Samson was defiled.

Then came his end

Though with much consolation,

As the audience applauded

He effected their destruction.

He had walked knowingly

Into their clever trap

But after in his blindness

Reduced them to mere scrap.

Many are not as fortunate

As in the case of Samson,

They pay an inordinate sum

As a wife-demanded ransom.

Novelty soon wears off

The honey leaves the moon

And all that’s left in the marriage

Is a witch on a broom.

Memories don’t leave like people do

But some quickly disappear

Leaving regret and alimony

And a life of gloom and despair.

Stewart Russell © September 2017