Sexes [version II]

[Teratogen]

Sexes

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO“Suddenly out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves,
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLike lightning it le’pt forth half startled at itself,
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIts feet upon the ashes and the rags, its hands tight to the throats of kings.”
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO --Walt Whitman, Europe, the 72nd and 73rd Years of These States

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I

Love was coming home,
Striking deep and striking fierce the gallant hearts of warriors.
All that is fair, here, is unfair—for the gods enslav’d to purpose suffer their masters:
Masters men and masters women, masters boys and masters girls—
Masters you and me.

O Mars! take Venus to beget strange Cupid
(As love and war beget such romance),
O Venus! of envy beauteous plot terror upon Psyche
(As love plots terror to the soul),
O Cupid! from thy quiver of arrows fumble to injure thyself—anon she hath peer’d into thine eyes
(As romance doth certainly do unto us—as the eye of the butterfly soul doth certainly observe),
O Psyche! ‘tis a visitor wounded Cupid appeals to the shadows
To bend to the fragilities of his enchantment in thy beauty, his honor in thy presence, his approbation of
OOOOOOOOOO thy sleeping body,
And arousing his awe in the panoramas of desire he aims to slake his longing
(As wounded romance to the soul begets confliction of the heart and of the senses).

O monstrous creature! flee into the darkness of the world, the soul shall seek thee without end.
Yes, romance is a hard one to believe in when doubt whispers gentle a caution.
But hark! the westward winds of influence employ stillness,
And lo! doubt to bear they refuse—
To the soul the aid of mysteries assists; it soldiers thro’ hell, its journey to love on the mount of
OOOOOOOOOO divinity, sip the river ambrosia,
Here the soul and romance unite!
O pleasure voluptuous! delight the sensate in graceful eudemonia and keep calm and serene the world.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO II

Among the brotherhood and among the sisterhood,
Among the patricians and plebeians, within the pageantry of peasantry and the patronage of peonage,
Among the nobility, serfdom, clergy, ‘twixt the country bumpkins and city slickers,
For clients and slaves alike, we invoke thee!
Invoke thee and call upon thee, gods of love immortal, gods of romance immortal, gods of the soul
OOOOOOOOOO immortal, for here is our war!
As warriors we join, as warriors we part, as warriors we fight, as warriors we die.

A republic of the people, a nation assembl’d with purpose—
Engineer’d by prospects of industry, cultivated from seeds of prominence,
Outsourcing and globalizing companionship, in opulence,
Industrializing venerated wombs for the geophysical future;
Pregnant with ambition, pregnant with hope—

Of our commonwealth, of our civilization, of ourselves,
Of you and of I we invoke thee, O gods,
Who have liv’d in truth or in myth,
Whose names have been designated to bibles, designated to laws, commandments, social order;
Whose stories have been told manifold and in exorbitance by authors and biographers, scribes and
OOOOOOOOOO bards,
Poets, prophets, playwrights, artists, singers, musicians, dilettantes of the zeitgeist and alike the
OOOOOOOOOO romantics before us.
We uphold their constitution and cast our lots among them—they are the sworn catalysts of ev’ry
OOOOOOOOOO true believer, critic, immigrant, native, partisan, expatriate,
Teacher, preacher, dignitary, disenfranchis’d dreamer and dauntless rebel.

O Mother and Father, rear the stillborn impetus to sponsor campaigns against one another,
This Mars-and-Venus coalition knows the free-will credence for which we may well stake our lives to be
OOOOOOOOOO lost at any moment.

And yet a surprising conglomerate—anon appears a myriad, an army of men and women—at once
OOOOOOOOOO seeking that which they came for:
A sense of happiness, looming in limbo.
This large mass of romantics following the lead of those who believe not in romance,
A wave of ethereal lovers following the lead of the lovelorn;
Seducing the possibilities: the fears, the anxieties, the fantasies—employing ev’ry emotion at once,
OOOOOOOOOO using longing as a proof of feeling and lust as a badge of justice,
The battle commences.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO III

Why do we lend ourselves to subjection of disbeliefs and objections of vengeance?
Why do we empower our doubts, our misgivings of hesitation and uncertainty?
Why do we spurn the accusations and dispute the allegations?
Expostulating on the unscrupulous variables,
Whether truth takes refuge there or untruth encircles the heart for scraps of provisions,
Why do we allow control to predispos’d notions and ideals?

Ev’rywhere the threats are seen and heard,
Ev’rywhere the threats are felt and tasted, register’d and recorded and stor’d;
In jealousy we vie for the honor of the hand of whom we admire,
In honesty we vie for the humility of the hand that extols,
In desperation we vie for the co-operation of the hand that caresses charity,
In injury we vie for the compassion of the gentle hand that dresses wounds,
In power we vie for the authoritative hand.

The battle for control—a sense of happiness—
Premeditated and calculated as a device of fantastic predicament,
Shall be the reason and the purpose for the ever-evolving human, the ever-revolving Earth, the ever-
OOOOOOOOOO involving universe, and the ever-dissolving satisfaction of existence.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IV

O how we mistake these exercises for passion.
A man goes thro’ ev’ry woman as she walks, breathes, advertises her womanhood:
One is bound to acquiesce;
A woman doubts ev’ry man as he sniffs, preys, winks his eye:
All have made attempts to acquire what is offer’d not;
Let suspicions be confirm’d or denied to these martyrs for their causes.

One may feel compell’d to take a side,
To achieve that sense of happiness;
It is ev’ry man for himself and ev’ry woman for herself.

Crops here are burn’d, famine assumes its responsibility,
Sentiment is harvested in wastelands of the heart, sustenance is cultivated
From subterraqueous conceptions of man and woman, subconscious customs of man and woman,
OOOOOOOOOO subjugated standards of man and woman,
Subdued in the sublime, taking enemies for companions.

What then is a hero?
Shall a hero be that man or woman who defends successfully himself or herself from the assault of his or
OOOOOOOOOO her admirer?
Shall a hero be that man or woman who fruitfully occupies the desires of his or her admirer?
Perhaps a hero shall be the one to conquer the will of his or her adversarial consort, bed many a
OOOOOOOOOO vulnerable objective;
From this banquet tempestuous, this buffet physiognomic the hero feasts.

Here, all that is fair is unfair, and heroes kill to protect the lives of pride, of lust, of avarice, of envy,
Solitude, servitude, companionship, power,
And in the name of love will kill indiscriminately.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO V

To the corpses of these young men and young women, these elderly, infants, children and adults,
I sing thee martial dirges; keeping vigil for fallen comrades, I walk with thee.
To the feudal bazaars of lovers I walk with thee.
To the black markets of lovers I walk with thee.
To the free-trade enterprise of lovers I walk with thee.
To the entrepreneurial domain of lovers I walk with thee.
To the kingdom of celestial lovers I walk with thee.
To the prostitutes, escorts, gigolos, I walk with thee.
To the libertines, hustlers, seducers, I walk with thee.
To the pornographers, pimps, pushers, I walk with thee.
To the Don Juans, Casanovas, Romeos, I walk with thee.
To the Jezebels, Juliettes, Belilis, I walk with thee.
To the merchants, clerics, promoters, professors, relations, regulators, I walk with thee.
To the governments, families, media, religions, educations, I walk with thee.
To the broken, the burning, the exhausted,
The torn, the maim’d, the martyr’d, I walk with thee.
To the solemn, the cynic, the hopeless,
The lovelorn, the doubtful, the mourning, I walk with thee.
To the uninhibited and the reserv’d, I walk with thee.
To the bold, the brave, the strong,
The energetic and the fearless,
To the fervent initiative entire, I walk with thee.
The faithless dance on thy graves, but I sing for thee and I walk with thee;
In gait diplomatic steadfast we march.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO VI

From visceral invocations,
Taking inventory of the emotions in our armories, collecting and supplying,
Choosing the weapons and shields;
Shall we be the terrorist or the infidel? the hero or the villain? the lover or the warrior?
Shan’t we be both and be all?

In the names of the gods we draw the lines and we advance,
Ev’ry man for himself, ev’ry woman for herself,
Each seeking that which they came for:
A sense of happiness.

In passion, in intimacy, in commitment we press on.
Should liking be love alone it too shall press on.
Should infatuation be love alone it too shall press on.
Should empty love be love alone it too shall press on.
But insofar come romance, insofar come companionship, insofar come fatuousness
To consummate love immemorial!

From the earth, from the sea, from the firmament, guided into battle, into submission,
Waiting for the signal to strike or to kneel,
Eros, Ludus, Mania, Storge, Agape, Pragma, press on to enemy territories! press on to allied territories!

These architects and alchemists, building better chemicals—
The chemicals of proximity, the chemicals of similarity, the chemicals of reciprocity, of attraction,
With equilibrium—concocting intoxicating cocktails,
A foundation in the science of attraction and repulsion, of joining and parting, of reconciliation and
OOOOOOOOOO separation.
Love is the gold, the universal solvent, the elixir of life,
Love is the mortar, the bricks, wood and stone.

Were self-love enough to offer inclusion of others, response from others, care for others,
Trust, affection, playfulness, genitality,
Then it would be enough to know love face-to-face in friendship and rejection.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO VII

Vengeance bequeath’d upon he who leaveth behind his legacy in pain and vengeance bequeath’d
OOOOOOOOOO upon she who leaveth behind her legacy in pain as well.
O pain, what of thee hast thou wrought from the hearts of these people? of thyself and thine own
OOOOOOOOOO heart?
The veteran—the greater experience of pain, the less a threat of death, the more authority on God and
OOOOOOOOOO Hell;
The novice—the less experience of pain, the less a notion of death, the more influence by God and Hell.

Tho’ we shall all be veterans and we shall all be novices,
Whatever rank one assumes we own the bureaucracy not, as it owns us.
Whatever knowledge one hath acquir’d in the trenches, the fields, the training camps, the board rooms
OOOOOOOOOO of the military strategists,
We are still generals, sergeants, lieutenants, majors, brigadiers, colonels, captains, corporals, privates;
We are still kings, queens, rooks, bishops, knights, and pawns;
And we are still fighting.
We are still advancing, still waging war, still defending our hearts and homelands,
And we shall be fighting forever.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO VIII

In victory sought there be revelry,
In defeat undesirable there be consolation,
One seeking inebriation, one seeking sobriety—
Here one must give their self up to the crises;
Someone has got to pay for the way her body moves and speaks and plays her game and the way his
OOOOOOOOOO mind disassembles her resolve;
For the way their hearts clash and reconcile.

‘Twixt intemp’rance and comatosis the madness of man seeks companion in gods—
Philautia, Colacia, Lethe, Misoponia, Hedonia, Anoia, Tryphé—
Of genius and beauty, of Bacchus and Silenus,
Of the gentle guardian of gardens, in the praise of virtue and vice,
We drink this wine, for this is the wine of reconciliation!

Disband in the ignominy of vice, reconcile in the glory of virtue!
In idolatry disband, in faith reconcile,
In despair disband, in hope reconcile,
In avarice disband, in charity reconcile,
In lust disband, in chastity reconcile,
In folly disband, in prudence reconcile,
In anger disband, in patience reconcile,
In harshness disband, in gentleness reconcile,
In discord disband, in concord reconcile,
In rebellion disband, in obedience reconcile,
In inconstancy disband, in perseverance reconcile,
In cowardice disband, in fortitude reconcile,
In pride disband, in humility reconcile,
In the poetry of combat let us disband and reconcile ourselves!

Each warrior constructing his or her own poem,
Unfolding on the pages of Time, with ink from the quills of Emotion,
Each word drawing blood, each word felling bodies, each word capitulating nations, each word
OOOOOOOOOO imploding universes.

In the vast expanse of Death’s gaping maw lies the corpses ferried ‘cross the river,
In droves they sail, pack’d in excelsior, awaiting, awaiting, awaiting,
To count their endless deaths of perfection
Or arise and begin again,
Until each word may rebuild, reconstruct, reinvent.

The darkness constructs and reconstructs us all
And the damn’d be naked in madness’ light.
Into darkness inestimable we descend and from darkness uninhibited we arise.
But even darkness circumnavigates the heart to bequeath the significance of its own.

I tell the darkness, Do not be afraid;
Receive me in thy bosom—
There will be one or there will be a few or there will be many
Who may seek me there.
But should there be no one to seek me there
I shall know where to find myself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IX

Of carnal sentiment, immolated in whisper, preserv’d in howl,
Masters of the gods we have enslav’d to our purpose,
Ev’ry goal be the same for ev’ry warrior in battle:
Aspiring for longing, aspiring to be long’d for,
Aspiring for love, aspiring to be lov’d,
Aspiring for embrace, aspiring to be embraced,
Aspiring for touch, aspiring to be touch’d,
Aspiring for kisses, aspiring to be kiss’d,
Aspiring for passion, intimacy, commitment the battle continues;
Ne’er did it begin in Time but in the hearts and minds of all mankind and womankind—
Ne’er an exposition, ne’er a denouement—but soon enough it shall end.
For us all the battle continues, never ceasing, never slowing, never faltering,
But soon enough it shall end.
Soon enough each of us shall end and for it the battle end in our hearts and in our minds.

Often the battle of the sexes rages for each of us,
Fuel’d by dissatisfaction,
Supported by a lack of self-worth,
Paid for by unhappiness,
Maintain’d by the fear of loneliness,
Endear’d to us by social order,
And prais’d as the behavioral destinies of a spiritual pursuit—
But the battle of the sexes often ends
In surrender.