Desire

September 28, 2005

What would your life
be like
if no one ever told you
what you wanted?

To feel
no artificial desires.

To know
only the nodding of your heart
as you walk around
saying yes to this, yes
to that.

What if nothing had
ever been
shoved down your throat?

What deep breaths
you could take.

Written by Whiskey River

  1. September 28, 2005 at 9:32 pm

    Oh, those last lines, Whiskey! I swoon.

  2. September 29, 2005 at 8:01 am

    This appeals strongly to the Daoist in me. Thanks!

  3. September 29, 2005 at 10:45 am

    What deep breaths indeed.

    It’s like falling in love.

  4. September 29, 2005 at 3:04 pm

    Thank you!
    I’m so glad I didn’t bomb. I’ve got a nasty case of writers block, and this editorial team is tough!
    ;)

  5. September 29, 2005 at 5:50 pm

    Yes, very nice. And wonderful to see you come out from behind the words of others, however well selected.

  6. September 29, 2005 at 8:30 pm

    I am SO happy to see this powerful and truth-filled poem here, Whiskey!

  7. September 29, 2005 at 9:13 pm

    Wonderful. Yes, it resonates with the incorrigible Taoist in me, too.

  8. September 30, 2005 at 12:30 am

    Fabulous. This made me shiver.

  9. September 30, 2005 at 1:09 pm

    “To feel
    no artificial desires.”

    If I were translating the poem, I would translate it to read:

    “To feel no desire
    but desire….”

    Yet there is so much noise
    that gets in the way,
    isn’t there?

  10. September 30, 2005 at 8:42 pm

    I wonder, myself, what is the state of no desire?
    Is it simply to be so satiated that there is absolutely nothing more that you want?
    And is that what we feel in-between all of our desires?

  11. October 1, 2005 at 1:41 am

    I love that “nodding of the heart” with all its shadows and shades of meanings (at least for me, one stands out: “knotting”.

    It is so wonderful to read your wok, whiskey!

  12. October 6, 2005 at 9:35 pm

    That’s a great typo — “read your wok” and all you cooked up in it! Stir-fry!

    This poem didn’t speak to the Daoist in me, it spoke to the one who has had too much shoved down her throat. I completely identify.

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