Ethereal

I believe life is a riddle that at times can be revealed as a joke. But at whose expense?

Ethereal

(Malady of Life)

By

Carlos Lorenzo Estrada

I am alive

A concept individualized 

Fleeting by laws of universe

An ember of spark dispersed 

I live, I love, I hope, I dream

Existing within these progressive extremes 

Nascent nature; pretentious purpose

Elusive aspirations which obsesses 

Haunted by the echoes of deep regret 

trapped in a mind of regressive intent

I move through illusions of reality 

Wandering ghosts of physicality 

Inert to the whims of omniscience

Consumed to the point of relevance 

What is determinative of success

When bound by the moments we soon forget 

I live for but a second in time

A prisoner trapped in a life of ryhme 

Author's Note

My muse Cate sat across from me staring with great intent in my direction. It was truly unnerving, and after quite a few moments I asked her, "What are you looking at?". And with indomitable wit she replied, "At nothing." Ouch, that cut me deep. To love her is to hate her, but not from anger...no. Admiration and envy. She knows me much better than I know myself. Literally. Feel free to comment, troll, or say hello. And as always thank you for stopping by.

Reviews

[Soren]

I am a lump of clay, meaningless in and of itself. It is in the shaping that meaning takes form. I find myself walking about talking to myself, usually in rhymes, so the last lines struck hard. We and all of our lives are works of art in motion. It is how they are seen and portrayed that make them so to others. Your opening lines "I am alive a concept individualized" Sounds of Descartes. "I live, I love, I hope, I dream" are the process and purpose to life. Then follows a nice piece of alliteration. I was taken by the reflections of the next lines and how at times life itself does not seem real, is hypnotic and in the end may seem meaningless. I too feel trapped in a life of rhyme. A very deep write of the existential psyche

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you for your comment and deep thoughts on this piece. I much like you find myself a prisoner of art. I view the world in words of prose and poetry. I can't sit in a field and see a tree simply as a tree. I see and feel more. Relevance is out of our control and amorphous conceptually. Life are moments we live in and have made or taken part of. Purpose is a constant struggle because we yearn to be of some significance. But it does not always define value, nor should it ever. We are poets and writers my friend. Accomplishments are meaningless because art and creativity are only valued by the hearts that find resonance in its message. Whether rich or poor if I manage to have changed a single heart than I would consider the words, not me, a success. Because there are times I have written things that I found had no real meaning nor resonance with me at all, and yet some found meaning in the work within themselves. I wrote something that was not meant for me. That is the enigma of art my friend.

[Sami Khalil]

The author is a great thinker asking pertenint questions, trying to find answers within and without. To solve those riddles of life takes lots of insights and wisdom. Many sages, philosophers tried to do that. It is like we want to find that one key, one recipe for all.
Excellent food for thought Carlos of Cali.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you so much for your kind words Sami. I really appreciate it. Art exists because we dare to dream and tell. Uncompromised, truthful, and at times biased by our own life experiences. But the value and worth of our words come from the heart willing to listen and accept them. I am an imperfect person but I strive to be better and hope better. I don't have all the answers to everything as I acknowledge this truth, but what I say comes from the depths of who I am. It is where art resides in us all. The grace of creativity. Poetry has a fundamental purpose of making us see what makes us human. To feel, to know, to dream, and love. It inspires us toward our better nature. Calls us to arms against the plight of injustice. Allows one of faith to accept in brotherhood one from another belief. These human qualities we at times take for granted in our every day lives. It allowed me to sit with a friend on a park bench and see the mystical beauty of a water fountain. It personifies unity. Thank you as always my friend and poet.

[Sami Khalil]

I love it. Can't agree more. You are welcome dear Carlos of great Cali.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I think the line "elusive aspirations which obsesses" should either be (elusive aspirations which obsess) or ( elusive aspiration which obsesses) for obvious reasons of syntax. I like the thought behind the piece. H.L. Mencken once said the Creator was a comedienne performing to an audience afraid to laugh. The quote is often misattributed to Voltaire. I like the questions posed in the piece. "What is determinative of success...etc." Sometimes the world remembers whether we think it may or not. Lincoln said, "The world will little note nor long remember what we say here..." in his most famous speech. He turned out to be greatly mistaken. If the nature is newborn and pretentious already, does that contribute perhaps to the aspirations being elusive? If so, perhaps a more dedicated and centralized effort might produce more favorable results. Life and time are fleeting; being partners with us in the temporary, but the universe is in entropy they say. It might be easy to feel insignificant if so much were not our responsibility and duty. But we certainly have those to fulfill, regardless of our station. An interesting write, I enjoyed the read. F.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you Fabian for sharing your always illuminating insightful thoughts with me, which I greatly appreciate. You are correct to point out it should read "elusive aspirations which obsess". We often look at newborn life and its potential in our world. Of course depending on individual perspective and beliefs. Including ethically the morals instilled within us be they by culture, faith, or any other way one would acquire. We seek better for our future generations, yet fall lower to our own aspirations. Because in life we see born its physical beauty, but belies the truth of what's to come in reality. Is not that moment fleeting? Perspective I feel may be the underlining factor in this piece. Both optimistic and pessimistic. We always want a greater life, aspire for it, yet not always taking into account obstacles of our own or just reality which stand in the way. It plays to our doubts. When you mentioned newborn life it conjured a moment in my life that had profound meaning. I worked at a hospital fixing computer equipment and was called into the neonatal ward. In a room I entered to repair some equipment there was an incubator with a baby boy inside it. The child was dead and blue, yet looked merely asleep clutching its hands in small fists. I was torn inside seeing this. My thoughts swam in a sea of sadness realizing the untapped potential of this child that will never be realized. Its fleeting life extinguished. And yet a pessimistic part of me had the gull to think...you got off lucky kid. A horrible joke of words to think in that moment. Our strive to be better is only as viable as the will to reach that goal. Those who attain their potential and those greater loftier heights are remembered. Whether the intent was good or bad. It is perspective that will often judge the value. I read some of the words I've written and am confused at the jumbled meaning of them. Dichotomous at times, ambiguous in meaning. But that is art at times. We either see the relation of the work in our own life and its relatability, or we don't and it is meaningless to us personally. Where to another it may have profound effect. As a writer I recognize I don't have all the answers and the one's I do are biased by my perspective and views of life, in which I have lived. Imperfect, as I myself acknowledge, that I am. The universe it in entropy, yet it teams with life. In death living. In this space and time we exist for a brief moment in history. What we leave behind is our legacy. The value of which is not ours to decide but for others. As fan of the art you produce I value the insight you have given. It is meaningful and helpful to me to read the perspective of my peers on the art I create. Thank you kindly Fabian for your thoughts.

[Cyprian Van Dyke]

I really like your choice of words. You always keep my vocabulary in check, which I thank you for. And your manner of writing under this topic is fitting and made the poem even more enjoyable to read. Always enjoy reading your conversations with Cate. Tyfs

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Thank you Cyprian for taking the time to comment and share your kind thoughts. Cate is quite a spirit, and much like creativity itself ethereal by nature. Like grasping strands of water in our hands and trying to make sense of its malleable beauty and importance to our lives. She is elusive, yet effusive. As inspiration for me often is. My muse Cate is an amalgamation of all the influential women I have known in my life I have come to realize. The good and bad parts because balance is always needed in any lasting relationship. Thank you kindly again my friend for your comment.

[Cyprian Van Dyke]

Well said, Carlos.
You're most welcome. Always enjoy reading your work.