#poem, «Struggle»

STRUGGLE

They’ve attacked like wild marauders in the night
that lay siege to a walled, medieval city.
They swarm in, capture us,
and throw us in the deepest, darkest dungeon…
But soon, like devil hornets they come in and break
the darkness of this hole and bind us…
By the light of the rising sun they take us and throw us off the cliff,
and we fall upon the rocks below,
our bodies now crushed are washed clean by the waves of the sea.

Violently we have been treated,
love and kindness quite defeated.
Cruel harsh blows we have received,
and our dreams have all been seized.
We are thunder without lightning,
clouds without rain,
dust without wind,
fire without heat…

Who will come to render aid?
Who will be the brave Samaritan?
Who will lend us one brief moment
and a handful filled with water
to alleviate this heat?

(Francisco Bravo Cabrera, Valencia, 01 NOV 2022)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The ‘struggle’, a ‘struggle’… Something dynamic, honourable, heroic, well, I would even say necessary in this day and age… No, it isn’t any of those. It is merely a manifestation of the dream we are all dreaming. The reverie we inhabit and find so appealing that we do not even want to consider waking up.

When you hear someone say “we must fight!” Or “life is a struggle!” Or they talk about the “struggle of the working class” or the “struggle for equality”, or other such slogans that have become like the cries of the new prophets, remind them that what you see is what you get. Remind them that life is and one need do nothing more than breathe to live. And to those who fall in love with those causes, for the which one must struggle, tell them to bugger off because workers are and will continue to be the slaves of the capitalists. The only place where they are allowed to struggle is at the factory.

And if they talk about the struggle to liberate the poor, remind them that the lot of the poor has never changed. They will always be pathetically trying to live, disgusted and sick of their poverty. But nothing changes. There were poor at the beginning, they are now and will be at the end.

Human beings are not valued for their humanity, for their likeness to God. They are valued for what they have. There has never been a government, left wing or right wing, that has ever opted on behalf of people. No society has ever valued a man or a woman for the miracle that they are. No one values life.

I would like to illustrate my thoughts with a short story that someone told me once in a country far, far away. I met this person briefly, admired him and never saw him again.

It seems that there was a travelling salesman who fancied himself a jolly joker. So one afternoon he arrives at a pumpkin patch owned by a farmer and his small family. Seeing that no one was around he decided to play one of his practical jokes. He sees a pumpkin that was close to ripening and he unceremoniously defecates within it and leaves.

However, upon his return through that same part of the country, he passes by the pumpkin patch and sees the farmer. He approaches him and with a brave smile on his face says,

“You know I passed by here a couple of weeks ago, and I defecated on the pumpkin that was about to be ripened. I hope you understand, it was only a joke…”

The farmer turned, looked towards his little home and shouted to his wife,

“Eleanor, remember that pumpkin pie we said tasted like shit?

“Yes!” She shouts back.

“Confirmed! It was shit!”

So well, my friends, when something tastes like shit, it most probably is and don’t let them tell you it’s a pumpkin pie…