The Castaway’s Raft

2/12/2012

2 Comments

 
A man spread-eagled on a sweaty bed
implores his lady for death on a cross
rather than face again this aftertaste of loss,
failing of lust and hunger for the dead.

Quick, one moment before, pulsing heat,
clung to a mattress and called for a mother,
holding to holy dreams of another
where a whole is absent between the sheets.

Frantic, the moment comes to its dire need,
and man makes his plea to heaven and earth
to save him from sea or skewer him straight
and, grieving, scatters his unlanded seed,
knowing this raft forlorn cannot hold birth,
empty of desire, except for a mate.


-JMK
2 Comments
Tommy Davidson
3/10/2012 06:31:50 am

This poem is obviously about a desperate man who has lost his beloved wife and now masterbates in despair without an egg for the semen that the memory of his departed wife arouses. If I met such a piteable man, I would first have a good cry with him. Then I would try to explain to him that God would not give him unrealizeable desires, and so whoever his one true help-mate is, there is still the possibility that he can have intimacy with her. Then I would explain to him that intimacy does not require sexual intercourse, especially if the couple is careful not to arouse one another beyond their strength; although sexual intercourse is not bad in the context of marriage. Then I would if possible show him by example that such a healthy relationship is possible. Finally I would point out Jesus Christ to him, who loved his wife the New Jerusalem by going up on the cross his heavenly Father prepared for him, thus encouraging him to carry on with his tiresome life, uniting his suffering together with that of Christ's. All of this if God willed. Peace

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Tommy Davidson
3/10/2012 06:40:35 am

Furthermore, I would encourage him to pray off her time in purgatory.

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