The Four Humors
What a journey down Icarus must have had having deceived Apollo!
Oh the flight up must have been daunting,
But the fall, recognising all of the familiar happening in reverse!
Such as it is to think – to live in constant motion forward,
And discover everything backwards.
Our fluids are our teachers –
To cough blood is to know what it is to breath,
To cut open our buboes is to understand our closeness to others,
To eat the afterbirth of our creations is to believe in true nourishment,
For we suckle like pigs at the elixir of life
And do our best to lock death from our door.
Cancer is forever nipping at our heels,
Asking demanding laughing at our mortal whims,
So we dream new frontiers to dance out our death
To rhythms and chords unplayed
May we tempt Hades to release our Euridices with
The fruits of our voices…
May our harmonies scream soft tunes of gratitude
To love and life.
To give back the fire to deserted souls
I would pluck out my own liver each night
No crows needed
If but a candle were lit with that fire
I stole from the Gods.
May my kidneys become a dialysis machine
If only that fire could be of use.