Pizza and poetry, 2

Of course, another reason I haven't posted much lately is that I've written things and just not gotten around to putting them on the damned blog.  A case in point: Back in February I wrote Debbie a sonnet where I talked about the Buddhist teaching on craving (illustrated by talking about pizza) as applied to love.  In one respect this was a successful poem ... in that it helped me court Debbie.  :-)  But at a philosophical level I wasn't actually happy with the resolution.  It seemed too tidy, too pat, ... too much something thrown together because it rhymed.  All of which was true.  But for a long time I didn't know where to go from there.

In July the two of us attended a "Mindful Couples" retreat, which discussed some of these issues.  But it wasn't easy for me to put the discussions into iambic pentameter.  Finally, very slowly, I started to squeeze out some verses.  And so by October I had completed a reply -- a riposte -- to the original poem.  I even made a mental note to myself to post it here right away.  But did I?  Ummm ... no, I just checked and I didn't.

So here, a couple months late, is the expanded version of that discussion of pizza and love that you might remember from the spring:

“Just think of pizza,” Roshi said one day,

“You smell it, need it, crave it, don’t you see?

“Your mind’s a-blur, there’s nothing you won’t pay,

“And that first bite is sheerest ecstasy.”

“The second bite is not quite so divine:

“For with the first, the Craving drops its hold.

“Then it comes back, now maybe it wants wine,

“And finds the pizza greasy, stale, and cold.”

Is it like that with love? I stare in fright.

Do all the waiting, longing, and desire

Prepare us for one single, magic night,

And then, with dawn, cold ashes but no fire?

It must not be (although for some it is).

Without the Want, love still has work to do.

It builds its fire anew, each day, from bliss.

And makes our souls a home, a shelter true.

They’re not the same. Love has a different goal.

For pizza feeds my gut. Love builds my soul.

Riposte

"The goal? That matters not a bit," he said.

"There's always something Craving drives us to.

"The object counts for nothing. Once it's fed,

"Our Hunger's right back, craving something new."

“For just as drippping water cuts through stone,

“So discontented Craving wears down Peace.

“If you’d speak up for Love you must make known

“In what way Love bids this erosion cease.

It’s true that Craving goads us ever on.

But Love is more than Craving: that’s the key.

Our lusts run helter-skelter, here and yon,

And yet I love you ever, constantly.

Your love plants seeds of kindness in my soul.

Your mercy waters them and keeps them warm.

You gently raise a bower, green and cool.

There’s safety there, and refuge from the storm.

Thus Peace of Mind is nourished by Desire.

For Love’s a Dharma too, shot through with fire.