Of Human Bondage

it's an act of human bondage... this welding of the hearts

the whole is greater than the sum of... the wedding of the parts

it's a fact of human bondage... the flesh will not be denied

an act of human bondage... daring, my hands are tied

still, I aspire to a higher plane... though I'm buut a man made of mud...

a paradise to be regained... I believe it in my blood.

n the tract f human bondage... boundaries are bound to blur...

on the map of human bondage... errors may occur.

there's a trace of human bondage... in every intimate embrace

the masked face of human bondage... difficult to track or trace

seeking truth in ancient adage... dark wisdom in old wive's tales...

still, in light of human bondage... much held for fact fails.

still, I aspire to a higher lane... while I wait for my wings...

in this cocoon of human bondage... there's a song my soul sings

as a child I would steal a glimpse... a print on my parent's bedroom wall

poor Hylas and the water nymphs... I could hear their siren call...

it's an act of human bondage... this inarticulate speech of the heart;

the exactitude of human bondage... comes in fits and starts...

still, I aspire to a higher plane... though I'm but a man made of mud...

a paradise to be regained...  I believe it in my blood.

it's an act of human bondage... this desire to fulfill that which we crave

the service of such a restless mistress... demands neither master nor slave.

it's an act of human bondage... the flesh will not be denied...

it's an act of human bondage...

you must see... my hands are tied.

     ...well... this song has been gestating/percolating away for a long time... recorded once; but might need to be redone... as a young man,  was entranced by a print of 'Hylas and the Water Nymphs'... an assortment of beckoning beauties (glimpse of breasts, no less) in sepia tint, encouraging young Hylas to try life under the water...I viewed a film with Kim Novak (Of HumanBondage...which my friend Tim Williams told me was an adaptation of a W. Sommerset Maughan story) which imprinted on me strongly. I think back to the images of my youth that had great sexual impact, and can't help but wonder how differently the barrage of pornography in our current society must be affecting our young people, male and female (and everything in between). Gone the days of furtive viewing of (someone else's) parental magazines. I recall being caught up short at the Exhibition (irony not lost) in a canvas tent, where I was slamming a photo machine which had not delivered the nickel 'blue' postcards as promised. The carny grabbed me by the collar, and made me wait while he opened up the machine and gave me my dime's worth of illicit imagery. Nothing to compare with the 'pocket porn' available on any cell phone these days, but heady stuff for the times (at least in my little East City Catholic enclave). That mix of curiosity and innocent ignorance might well have landed me easy prey for a pedophile priest; but perhaps my getting kicked out of 'altar boy class' for not having learned the responses to the Mass in Latin over the Easter break that long ago year was the kick start of my lifelong tendency to get by on a 'clear cut case of more luck than brains...' Whatever the  case, I made it through my awkward Catholic years with no major religious trauma; and most certainly did not foist that whole scene on my own children. There is a lyric tentatively titled 'Sins of the Fathers' that has yet to come to fruition, but I suspect it will

    I have left this 'work in progress' as one lengthy poem; thought in 'song' form it allows for the couplets to stand as 'verses'. 'Of Human Bondage', indeed. Mild allusion is made to the trappings of S/M role play, but it's really about the depth of commitment we allow (indeed demand?) in our human relations. love to all (whatever that means as individuals), d.

 

 

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