Ramadan S&M
Coffeeless and sleep-deprived, I stagger
into the first day with my face
tripping over my shoes
Ramadan, why you do me this way?...
Ramadan S&M
Coffeeless and sleep-deprived, I stagger
into the first day with my face
tripping over my shoes
Ramadan, why you do me this way?
On the second day, I?m haggard
and horny and bad-breathed,
needing a drag, and a drink,
a boot leather taste in my mouth
Ramadan, what I ever do to you?
The body whines its needs:
If I can't have bread and sex and chocolate,
let me at least have sleep
But even against that refuge,
Ramadan raises its whip
Hour after hour on the rack of Ramadan,
day after captive day,
the appetite is dulled
down to its last whimper
The wooden will goes limp,
and discovers the resolve that lives
under its surface whims
Ramadan, you sado-masochistic
driver, don't make me love you
in the final stretch,
in my triumph of self
mastery
Great.
Brilliant, isn't it? I adore this poem. The ending is perfect, so perfect, "...don't make me love you/ in the final stretch,/ in my triumph of self/ mastery." Perfect. Self mastery is not submission, but love is. God breaks through with love. One can get through the whole of Ramadan, bearing up, taking its beating, being driven, and still have it be about the self, still think it a triumph of mastering the self. The last little bit of resistance of the self is given up in loving God. Oh God, will you take my sense of self-mastery from me too?! Allah! Wonderful!
The logo "Submit" sounds so abrasive and so threatening~!
"submit' or else (is that the idea?)!
PI.Org Note: As series of troll posts here were moved to Smackdown
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