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| Adams prance about just for Eves |
I am disguised
In my disgust
At myself.
Again and again,
I fall, again and again
I promised myself I shan’t.
I am kept waiting,
I am kept punished,
My emotion is peddled
Most cheaply by you,
Oh, Eve, why do I continue
To be besotted by
One so pretty
Yet so cruel?
How did God make you, Eve?
What concoction of heavenly light
And forbidden delight did He mix in you?
You cannot tell me, can you?
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| Adams climb balconies just for Eves. |
Forget the nuances of poets
And their helpless poetry.
For before the maddening,
The utterly beguiling Eve
We fall. Again and Again.
It FEELs like pain,
But by God,
We do not even feel worthy
To walk with you
On this lonely country lane.
I know your cottage is just around
The corner of the heath -
Of the most flaming light,
Of the most precious paper
Scorched by the governing fire,
It is your kind, to us Adams
That we are both punished and bequeathed
The garden of heavenly ease,
In the valley of you peerless Eves.
This strange little prose about man and woman was written while contemplating a woman and listening to this song 'King of Anything' by Sara Bareilles. In this quaint and well written song, the talented Ms. Bareilles is scolding her soon-to-be ex. But to a man, it is such a beautiful way of scolding that I fear any Adam won't mind at all being scolded by her.
So, please. If you want to scold me, Eve. Write a song. And a good one. Pity us because Ms. Bareilles is absolutely correct about us men - we are nothing, no king of anything at all...
wa min Allah at-taufiq.
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