Summertime (The Correspondence)
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Illuminance, my Shadow,
Grace us!
We can quote Plato to the sun.
He'll just shout it back at us
But we'll get at Him someday
With something new...
You're a poet
In the way Plato was a poet
In the way Freud was a poet
In the way I want to be a poet
In the way Freud was a philosopher
In the way Plato was a philosopher,
You do understand.
I'm absolutely serious.
I mean what I say and I say what I see.
I'm blind... but what with of the early sun
And the late harvest moon and the great light of
Fireflies, the blind boy saw his shadow.
Spring came slowly. Then summer.
It took you four seconds to prove that
You knew everything I did.
How dare you? How dare you!
And otherwise pretend you're real?
You are nothing but that item
I could have been
If I hadn't already
Tried too hard.
Thank it all I'm not you!
My dear pretty Shadow.
Let me breathe! Let me see!
Let me be what I want to be, oh yes, all that
But I'm not looking forward
To the effort. I'll need to break free?
Oh, neither are you! What can we
Do about it? We're human,
We're human, we've always been
Susceptible. Oh! Always.
Elusive for ever,
The Mind
(prisoner of the Body)
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Darling Mind,
You're getting ahead of yourself.
You can indeed quote Plato to the sun,
But have you read any Plato?
How much of what you tell us,
Yourself, your surroundings,
Is deeply embedded in hyperbole?
It is my duty to disillusion you.
You are not so elusive as you might think,
Though among the few of us you hold the going.
You are not blind, and you have no right
To compare yourself to that boy.
I'm flattered that you think me a poet.
I can assure you that I am more than
You without the further definition.
You should have realized earlier,
Effort is never a welcome requirement
And you have always been susceptible.
Forgive me,
Illuminance, your Shadow
(sun-dog of the Body)
P.S. I strongly suggest that you get a proper name.
What would you prefer? Something Jungian... Persona? Anima?
P.P.S. Is this a royal we? It had better not be.