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Ain't Willing

Cryptic Coercion Rejected

By C. Rommial ButlerPublished 2 years ago • 2 min read
Edwin Blashfield: Spring Scattering Stars

When they don’t love us

For what we want to be loved for

But only for the use they can make…

I ain’t willing to do that anymore.

<>

When they only hate us

Because we won’t be their whore

While expecting us to be fake…

I ain’t willing to do that anymore.

<>

When they won’t be fair to us

Unless we waste time keeping score

While they just take and take…

I ain’t willing to do that anymore.

<>

When they avoid and alienate us

Until they need us to fight a war

Because their wealth is at stake…

I ain’t willing to do that anymore.

***** * *****

Rommentary:

As I prepare for a trip to see a dear relative, I wrestle with many demons, not all of which are my own. The world, after all, is filled with them.

Though some believe themselves angels doing the work of the Divine, each such presumption bespeaks a hubris which is the inevitable downfall of every empire under the sun, which is, I think, ultimately for the better, though it never looks good "on paper" to sycophants and ideologues.

This is allegory, of course. My essay on The Two Questions weaves the confusion of symbols handed down to me from my culture into a fuller narrative, so I'll leave that clunker to stand the test of time, rather than repeat myself here.

That to which I really wish to draw attention, dear reader, is this: we don't have to participate.

In what? you ask.

Well, like the recalcitrant child tends to answer when caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar: I dunno.

Meaning: I can't tell you, anymore than you can tell me, what evil creeps into your life. We all have our unique challenges.

I'm just sayin': you don't have to participate. Do good instead. Replace evil with good. Plant a seed in fertile soil rather than break your back fighting the fallow earth. Love the one you're with rather than pine for the one that left. Live the dream your eyes reveal before you, rather than chase the one the billboard sells you.

I may not live forever, but energy never ends. I am from the energy and back to the energy shall I go. We are not only ashes and dust, but the wind that carries it, and the water that dissolves it into itself, and the flaming star whence it came amidst the primordial whirling of an ineffable cosmos.

I'll be taking a break from posting for a couple of weeks, though I might peek in to read stories when I have idle moments in strange places. Thanks again, dear reader, for joining me for another Saturday Morning Stream-of-Consciousness. Blessings and Love!

inspirationalStream of Consciousnesssurreal poetry

About the Creator

C. Rommial Butler

C. Rommial Butler is a writer, musician and philosopher from Indianapolis, IN. His works can be found online through multiple streaming services and booksellers.

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    Written by C. Rommial Butler