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Love as a Snack
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Manage episode 381185464 series 2775401
Content provided by Sunil Bhandari. All podcast content including episodes, graphics, and podcast descriptions are uploaded and provided directly by Sunil Bhandari or their podcast platform partner. If you believe someone is using your copyrighted work without your permission, you can follow the process outlined here https://player.fm/legal.
As the years have gone by, I must confess life has confused more than clarified. Possibly life is a tease, urging me to study the deeper truths of our being, meditate on possibilities, and find what sustains, what doesn’t. And till that happens, I stay in the splendid anagrams of my confusions. And first up on that is - love. Having a life full of seeing it, reading of it, passing through it, being abandoned by it, seeing it implode around me, knowing it to be the ash it is, love is a puzzle, to say the least. I have lost the definition of what it is. I have seen what people who are in it do, I have seen it’s destructive power, I have seen it as obsession, I have read, seen, experienced the art created for it by people who are in it or without. I have seen it being called out as permanent, life-affirming, what makes the world go around. But when I examine it, I see it more as courtesy, as priority; and as time goes by, as duty, as habit. Love grows into strange synonyms. And I muse, sometimes dismayed, more often merely cynical, wondering if love wasn't just an invention for propagation, to give emotion to procreation, a feel-good, an entertainment, a melodramatic journey to pain through joy. Beyond the hyperbole of spiritual bliss (which is too beatific to be true), and the purple prose of the besotted (which is too pink for good health), I only see forbearance of the patient, life as a means to navigate relationships, find balance in confusion, and awareness in illusion. Lovers are all purveyors and creators, ready for fiction - and forever eager to believe their own tales. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on love's myriad sides:
…
continue reading
- Living in a World Deficient in Hugs
- I Will Leave The Last Line For You To Fill
- Of Rain-Engulfed Rooms and Lovers In Spate
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
Subscribe to my incandescent and poetic newsletter The Uncuts here - https://theuncuts.substack.com. Following is the music used in this episode -Music: Rising Sun by Sascha Ende
Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/86-rising-sun
Licensed under CC BY 4.0: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
235 episodes
MP3•Episode home
Manage episode 381185464 series 2775401
Content provided by Sunil Bhandari. All podcast content including episodes, graphics, and podcast descriptions are uploaded and provided directly by Sunil Bhandari or their podcast platform partner. If you believe someone is using your copyrighted work without your permission, you can follow the process outlined here https://player.fm/legal.
As the years have gone by, I must confess life has confused more than clarified. Possibly life is a tease, urging me to study the deeper truths of our being, meditate on possibilities, and find what sustains, what doesn’t. And till that happens, I stay in the splendid anagrams of my confusions. And first up on that is - love. Having a life full of seeing it, reading of it, passing through it, being abandoned by it, seeing it implode around me, knowing it to be the ash it is, love is a puzzle, to say the least. I have lost the definition of what it is. I have seen what people who are in it do, I have seen it’s destructive power, I have seen it as obsession, I have read, seen, experienced the art created for it by people who are in it or without. I have seen it being called out as permanent, life-affirming, what makes the world go around. But when I examine it, I see it more as courtesy, as priority; and as time goes by, as duty, as habit. Love grows into strange synonyms. And I muse, sometimes dismayed, more often merely cynical, wondering if love wasn't just an invention for propagation, to give emotion to procreation, a feel-good, an entertainment, a melodramatic journey to pain through joy. Beyond the hyperbole of spiritual bliss (which is too beatific to be true), and the purple prose of the besotted (which is too pink for good health), I only see forbearance of the patient, life as a means to navigate relationships, find balance in confusion, and awareness in illusion. Lovers are all purveyors and creators, ready for fiction - and forever eager to believe their own tales. If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on love's myriad sides:
…
continue reading
- Living in a World Deficient in Hugs
- I Will Leave The Last Line For You To Fill
- Of Rain-Engulfed Rooms and Lovers In Spate
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
Subscribe to my incandescent and poetic newsletter The Uncuts here - https://theuncuts.substack.com. Following is the music used in this episode -Music: Rising Sun by Sascha Ende
Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/86-rising-sun
Licensed under CC BY 4.0: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
235 episodes
All episodes
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