A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.

*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.

but aren't they all random?

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

against purpose

Purpose
is a false god. Too many lives
punctured and immolated upon that altar, too many
acts, uselessly dedicated
to that. That
incontrovertibly empty,
and therefore ineluctably corrupt,

religion.
The worship of purpose,
founded on the dogma that things
should be done for a reason.

Well.

Ladies,
and gentlemen.
I don't need to tell you
where I stand on that. I don't
stand on that.

I stand as far away from
that as possible. But at need,
under attack
from it,
I give you

my vow now:

I shall not shirk to stand against it.

Come, shelter in
behind me.

I have a very odd
combination ready, to befuddle the beast's defense, then
we trip it, shoot past,
break North,
crack a forty and laugh.

Purpose is useless to us.

Purpose is useless, to us. Whose purpose?
If it wasn't ours? A thing should be done
for no reason, or not at all

I trust. Let us stand together, for
nothing. No reason at all. For ourselves,

we shall be invincible.

Why not? If we're not
doing anything else
at the moment,

me might just as well
be just who we are,
doing things with just cause,

just 'cause we can.

There's nothing so just
or responsible. Let's choose
noble means, and defy

to the end.

No comments: