A Down Side to Hope?

Audrey

THE DOWN SIDE OF HOPE
(based on: "Expectation postponed makes the heart sick." --The Bible)

Is there something wrong with hope?
A reason to apply caution?
When you postpone living, it can be like dope
With life, you have poor adaptation.

The hope of a utopian paradise
Of perfect never-ending life
Stressed as worth any sacrifice
Does this lead to psychological strife?

The Witnesss believe this world is all-wicked
Their paradigm intensifies each occurrence
After every false alarm, more heartsick
Then settle down, work'g for Armageddon insurance.

Always faultfinding, interpreting all as prophecy
With this life, breeds dissatisfaction & ills
The JW life lacks all normalcy
"Oh, please hand me my Prozac pills."

The 'publishers' of this PUBLISHING Corp.
Don't wear rose-colored glasses.
No, theirs are stormy & black, to warp
All that's positive, as they sit on their asses.

Endlessly waiting for this system to end
Trivializes all the positive now.
Always compare this to that, this life they suspend.
And mental health is affected how?

What does this dream do to their psyche?
"Expectation postponed makes the heart sick."
So many have forfeited solvency;
It's the theocracy thru thin and thick.

The normal thinking process
That moves us to personal Odyssey
Is stultified and then most acquiesce.
Critical indenpendent thought is apostasy.

The JW hope is imminent, not far away.
Not like most who say "when kingdom comes!"
Their dream is not theirs to bring sway, Possesses their lives as they march to WT metronome.

From my own experience, loneliness abounds.
"The Christian cong. doesn't exist for social activities!"
If not of the socially elite, you're aground.
So for many, if not most, add lonely anxieties.

The psyche takes quite a beating in the cult.
It postpones life; in reasoning not skilled;
Increases guilt; steals life for youth & adult.
Busy as bees are they, but liberty's killed.

------------------------------------------
Thanks for letting me share!
Audrey, the Muse

waiting

"Audrey the Muse"

Thanks for the look at our lives - slightly altered from prose. Walking the same road, just apart.

Endlessly waiting for this system to end
Trivializes all the positive now.
Always compare this to that, this life they suspend.
And mental health is affected how?

What does this dream do to their psyche?
"Expectation postponed makes the heart sick."
So many have forfeited solvency;
It's the theocracy thru thin and thick.

How succinct! I know from my experiences, it was sooooo hard to live life now as the non-reality, and think of the Paradise Earth as the reality. It made it easier, however, to "trivialize all the positive now." Because if we made the "now" important.......it was wrong, as this world was passing away.

Thanks for the insight.

waiting

Audrey

Thanks for the remarks on the poem. It is true that it's a strange duality that makes you miss so much in the real life.

Hugs,
Audrey

Frenchy

I enjoyed your poem too. It's an interesting theme. The French Knight has made an attempt at it also and he's using my posting privileges to put his work here. I hope you don't mind.

I waited

Oh how bland the world doth seem
When viewed next to Elysian’s fields
And this life, O how fleeting and brief
When set against all of eternity

For hope is a lover canst thou see
Which forever lies beyond our reach
For favors promised we purchase wait
With life’s fabric, time, we gladly pay

Till one day the garment be truly gone
And naked we stand, truly alone
So with regret we breathe a sigh
She never came and now I must die

--The French Knight

Audrey

Frenchy,

Thanks for sharing that poem. It's so sad, but often so true. It's very cleverly written. I had to read it twice out loud to understand it.

Please, oh please!, give me the answer to the French Knight. Is it you, a famous book, poem? What is it?

Warmly,
Audrey

Frenchy

Okay, the French Knight. "The French Knight" is a mysterios character, not quite real and yet...somehow he persists. It's a personna that slowly eased itself into my life, not quite an alter ego, and yet somehow adjoined to me in some manner. It happened when I first came here a long time ago, back when this was just a small neighborhood and everyone knew everyone else.

The French Knight still believes in chivalry and gallantry and is very quick to defend a lady in distress. He never uses profanity or off-color humor (actually he uses no humor at all!) and is just as prone to dismount his white steed, sit upon a rock overlooking some serene valley, and write a poem than he is to challenge a dragon to a fight to the death.

Sad to say, I don't see much of him anymore. He used to pop up in my posts (he's not allowed to register so he must use my account) and regularly chat with waiting (for whom he as the utmost respect as she is very outspoken for a lady) and of course he always enjoys talking to the Red Horse Woman for they share a common love of noble steeds.

He's in love with Seven Of Nine (although he would never openly admit it) and in his eyes she is the princess in the tower which, regardless of how much he tries,he is unable to scale to 'rescue' her. (What makes the poor chap think that she is in need of rescue?) Seven of Nine is always kind to the French Knight and one has to imagine that she sees him as perhaps no one else is able and she is kind enough to allow him his illusion. He is after all quite harmless.

He is a figment which exists in the mists which enshroud and cling to the outer borders of the mind. Like a shadow that disturbs the mists at dawn, at times he appears sihouetted against the pale dawn light and one is tempted to believe but only for an instant. The mist swirls and the morning sun pierces it's fragile fabric and the knight vanishes as the cold, hard light of reality evaporates the delicate mists and the fantasies and wonders of things that, might and perhaps should be, are replaced by the mundane realities which are so glibly termed 'the real world.'

I envy the naieve knight who is neither bound nor fettered by the 'realities' with which we are forced to contend. I envy his freedom to believe beyond the limits placed by logic, to hope beyond the dictates of reason, his courage to defend his timeless convictions and to dwell in that magical land where all things are possible, incorruptible by time or circumstances. I see him from time to time in those fragile, wispy morning mists standing there and pitying me.

So there you have it. You may see his comments here although he seldom visits anymore. (Now that you're posting poetry he seems to be easing out of hiding!) If you are lucky and if he takes a liking to you, you may even see him when you least expect it, standing there on that white steed and dressed in full armor peering at you just slightly beyond the borders of your mind. He will only be there for an instant but if you ever see him, I assure you, you will never forget him.

Audrey

Frenchy,

I've read your poem more now, and I love it. It has such a poignancy and sadness to it. Did you write it? I guess you did, as you said that The French Knight was using your account. Have you written more? Would you post it?

Audrey

Hi Frenchy,

Our posts crossed, and i now see that you have fully answered my questions in the most beautiful prose. Thanks for the explanation of that gallant fellow. I hope to see more of him as he is very clever and noble.

Audrey

Frenchy

Thank you very much, Audrey. Yes, I've written more poems. I'll try looking up a couple for you.

Frenchy

Here's one I wrote when I was feeling especially sad.

Endless Night

I've never seen a night so long or so quiet
As cold winds whine and labor in their fight
To traverse through bough and limb and height.
If God made the day, then the Devil made this night

Tonight my memories are chasing her in my mind
And what havoc they wreak in their desperate plight
To catch her, hold her, only to find,
She has vanished, slipped away into the everlasting night

Still I don't know what I did wrong,
What I should have said, should have done
I would never have guessed I could hurt so long
But then I never expected her to be gone

I walk to the window and peer into the endless night
High above the tree lined horizon hangs the hunter's moon
Over tall, dark trees jutting up toward the ebony sky
A night bird calls out and my heart is filled with gloom

Unbidden you came into my life and set my soul afire
Now you're gone and my soul is dark and cold
And it's another's lips that sets your heart on fire
On this cold, lonely night, it's someone else you hold

I'm afraid this night will outlast the bottle of wine
Then what will I do, while I wait on the light
Of the sun breaking o'er the tall pines
To give me reprieve till the next eternal night.

A Down Side to Hope?

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