August 8, 2011
Something different from me today as I step away from the usual erotic themes to muse on the wondrous foibles and fantastic floundering that we can be prone to. I feel fairly justified in taking this as a subject matter alongside erotica as, after all, erotic moments and sex have there founding in relationships whether they be long term partnerships or fleeting encounters. The piece I’ve written for today is in part a confessional, part exorcism as I attempt to expunge some wrangling thoughts over fumbled communication with a sometime lover. It is not erotic or graphic but does concern adult themes.
I came across a quote a couple of days ago, by the mid-twentieth century American novelist John Barth, with which I really identified:
“In art as in lovemaking, heartfelt ineptitude has its appeal and so does heartless skill, but what you want is passionate virtuosity.”
I think that statement could be extended throughout a lot of things in life beyond art & lovemaking (although they are surely the best things in life). But this short poem is not about heartless skill nor passionate virtuosity. This is my heartfelt ineptitude…
The moment passed, my thumb pressed down – send.
The message to constrained by format to convey,
True meaning in each sentence,
True meaning in each word that flies away,
In bits and waves as the screen gives way,
And I’m left unsure that this was time to say.
With hubris I had boasted morning’s exploit,
Across the social network like a fool.
A prideful hollow in my thinking,
Perhaps too crass, I want to take the statement back,
Replace with some other thought with clearer motivation,
And clearer consideration woven through.
But feelings come more suddenly than clarity of thought.
It was feelings drove my desire to express;
With no callousness in sentiment,
Just my heartfelt ineptitude,
As I lacked the forethought as to what you may feel,
Upon reading my feelings so simply made real.
Had I not picked my moment with such unthinking zeal,
Would I now know? Would I now know?
So I write this here now not to reveal,
There is nothing I want less than your discomfort or hurt.
I wish nothing more than to say this,
That is, that I care.
by Jonathan VajéFollow @MrMisterJ