Religion as Poetic Truth
A lightly edited transcript of an impromptu talk by Mark F. Sharlow
How much truth is there in the religions of the world? How many of their beliefs are true? Before trying to answer that question, I’d like to mention an example that shows how intricate the question of truth can sometimes be. Think about poetry. The poet Carl Sandburg once wrote a poem titled “Fog,” in which he used these lines: The fog comes on little cat feet. Now, is Sandburg’s statement true or not? When you think about the fog coming in over a coastline, as in Sandburg’s poem, do you find those lines true? The answer to that question could be “no,” because there are no cat feet on the fog – no matter how hard you look under the fog, you won’t find cat feet. Or the answer could be “yes,” because those lines describe exquisitely a certain experience of what it feels like when you’re in a place where the fog is coming in. You know what I mean, if you’ve ever been there – that strange hushing, that strange softness that your surroundings develop. It’s a subjective experience, but it’s a real part of your awareness. So, are Sandburg’s lines true? The answer is yes or no, depending on whether what you mean is 1 literal truth – truth of the kind that a scientist would consider true – or poetic truth. If you mean literal truth, then the lines are not true (of course). But if you think of the lines as possibly describing an experience, as being poetically true in that sense, then they are true. Those lines do describe something real – a real subjective feature of your awareness and of your surroundings – even though there really aren’t any feet under the fog. I’d like to propose that we think of most of the beliefs of the major religions of the world in this way. These beliefs might not be literally true, but at least in some cases – at least for the central beliefs shared by most religions – they might be true in some other way. They might point to a significant truth, even though they aren’t literally true. The prime belief of this sort would be belief in God. Now, some people think of God as a being who created the universe and who created everything in the universe, including living species, by supernatural means, by just bringing them into being (boom! there they are), instead of natural causes creating the things in the universe. If this is exactly how you define God, then there is no God. Why? Because things have natural causes. Many things have been found to have natural causes, and biological species, as one prime example, have been found to have natural causes through evolution. So if that’s what you mean by “God,” then there is no God. But the answer is different if what you mean by “God” is a divine presence in the world, some entity or feature of reality that can be regarded as divine – which means, at a minimum, that it’s worthy of our highest admiration and love, and somehow represents and embodies all that is good. If that’s what you mean by God, then there could well be a God. I’ve argued in some of my writings that there is a being like that. It’s what philosophers would call an “abstract entity” – not a ghostly spiritual substance, but an entity that can be known to us as a feature of the world and of things in the world. This entity is a suitable focus for our highest love, because it is shown or manifested in all that is beautiful and good, including the people we love. It is not just some force or some object devoid of spiritual qualities. Instead, it has enough mindlike features that we can regard it as a “someone” instead of a mere “something.” However, it is not what we usually think of as a “person.” I know I’m being rather vague and sketchy here, but I’ve spelled it all out before, in my writings on the subject of God.
How to improve your bad poetry. Apart from burning it!
If you are writing in form I suggest thinking of the lines as being like music with the same number of beats in each line.
Nowadays free vs much more commonly used and you don’t have the same problems there but you do have to have a feel for the musicality of what you write unlike the person who wrote the following verses
When you read them you will realize that it’s not worth writing anything unless it has some meaning and value to you and other people or it is genuine humour which these lines do not achieve
He took his girlfriend to the ( bleak and) sandy shore
He pushed her into that deep sea, and now she is no more
Stan fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.Emile lay across his lap.Emile was so limp he looked like a wet towel casually over the old man’s knees.It was Stan’s birthday but no party had been arranged.He was struck that Mary had not baked a cake..nor even bought one at the Co-op.
That was no surprise really as he did all the cooking including Bakewell tarts and Xmas cake,He was a versatile man who could also mend old radios and fix clocks that were stuck one time….usually the wrong one! He also spent quite a lot of time giving statistics lessons to pensioners and kissing his blonde mistress,Anne who lived next door. He decided that being so near her was a big advantage given his age. Suddenly he was awakened by chuckles and giggles,There were Mary and Anne holding a big iced cake and a pot of tea.The doorbell rang and in came all Stan’s friends from his Art class.Mary produced sandwiches and pork pies,sausage rolls and potato cakes. How did you do this ?,he enquired dazedly. We did it all in Anne’s oven.She has two so it was quite easy. Mary was not jealous of Anne for Mary would rather read Principia Mathematica than go to bed with Stan.Apparently she was mildly autistic but she was happy doing maths as many of her co-workers had the same syndrome. She did have one daughter whom she found hidden in a gooseberry bush in the garden.This was enough for Stan as he was 92.But luckily he did have a good gold plated pension of £390.09 per month. Everyone was having a fabulous time until Anne tried to light the candles on the cake.No matches could be found. Ring 999,Stan called childishly.Mary obeyed and soon the ambulance drew up. In ran Dave the trisexual paramedic. Is it your chair? he enquired wildly. No,it’s this cake.We can’t light the candles on it.Shall we douse it in petrol? We have a jerry can full of it in the spare room. That is very dangerous,he shouted. Well,we are old now and need the car badly.Risk assessment gave us evens on the odds. Dave produced a silver lighter and lit the candles.Then he conducted them all as they sang, ”Happy Birthday” to Stan.Stan managed to blow out 90 candles before passing out on the rug. Well,at least he didn’t break the chair,Mary said philosophically. I wish he had,said Dave. I’ve got some superglue here. Well,we do have a wardrobe that’s falling apart.would you like to mend it? Sure ,he replied gratefully.This is why we have the NHS! We are here for you 24/7 Or come to A and E if you get a mouth ulcer or a cold sore.No problem is too small!
Stan came to on the rug with Emile beside him.He gazed deeply into the cat’s green eyes. I think I’ve fallen in love with you,he informed the Emile. Will you sleep with me and let Mary have your basket. Are we engaged,said Emile. Definitely,said Stan.I’ll get you a golden collar with diamonds on it. When shall we be married? As soon as it’s legal,Stan answered honestly. In the meantime,we’ll have to live in sin. Then he fell asleep again with Emile in his arms. What a lovely picture, cried the ladies. Look at this.What a happy sight. What love,what devotion. How strange,what a commotion. They’re in love,what emotion. Don’t tell the Pope,we need caution
Poets have long been entranced by awe, that fleeting shiver of wonder you might feel while gazing at an endlessly starry sky or the geometry of a perfect snowflake
This did not require trekking to mountaintops or witnessing eclipses. Simply pausing to admire the intricacy of the veins of a leaf or being astonished by the scale of the universe after listening to a science podcast
I was trying to connect a Chromebook to the internet via my Wi-Fi
It did not respond when I tapped my Wi-Fi provider. After a lot of effort I discovered I could just about see the settings when the screen was in a high intensity mode
It appeared to be connected to EE and then wanted to charge me for using it but I don’t know who’s EE broadband it was connected to.
I’ve never spent a lot of time losing it the settings but I’m glad that I did spend this time because I understand a lot more about the settings now than I did before.
Eventually I managed to get rid of EE and put my BT one in its place
Now all that took a long time.
And what I do is the following
I spend a maximum of 25 minutes with a problem and then I leave it until the next day
I repeat this for as many days as it takes.
In between my brain has been working on what’s happened and so I find it easier to go back into the problem
Of course it’s very hard sometimes to leave a problem
I’ve still not connected it because it comes up with the phrase
Network not available.
If you have good eyesight you will probably do this problem solving more quickly than I can
The tiny print is very hard to read even with a magnifying glass and several pairs of spectacles
No I feel confident that I know how to do that but not just that but I’ve learned how to do several other things.
I first learned this technique of doing only 20 or 25 minutes at a time when I bought a new phone and by some horrible chance I touched Norwegian as the language by mistake and it took me four days of 25 minutes a day to change it back to English again
No one I knew at the time knew what to do so I just had to keep trying different possibilities.
So the most important thing is: it’s better not to use a lot of energy pressurising yourself to solve the problem quickly
If it is urgent then you’re better off calling in an expert to help you.
I wonder if the pearl of great price is no longer itself when you think you can acquire it cheaply.
Of course the great price is not money it is a metaphor that you sacrifice all that you have that you are willing to become nothing in order to get this Pearl which is I think must be creativity.
Over-ripe peaches stuck in throat Swallowed a button inside a salmon steak.Two for one. Tried to thread needle while standing on own head Fell out of bed onto a sharp wife Dreamed was being buried so died of shock Asked for cremation owing to drug habits.Died when in urn or before
Mary realised her voice was louder than most when people took out their hearing aids when she talked to them
But was she right?
There are alternatives explanations such as people were not interested in Wittgenstein but in the cost of living
She did find her booming voice useful when phoning doctors,
Why had her voice got louder as she aged? Could her doctor have given her testosterone instead of oestrogen?
Off she went to meet her doctor on Zoom
Oh,my God her GP shouted.
When you said you were an 85 year old mathematician I assumed you were a man but your voice was feminine hence I gave you male hor.mones to deepen it and make it more authoriative
Why don’t you change your gender ? he continued
I don’t feel like a màñ
How do you know how men feel ?
They have felt me in bed with an urgency that surprised me
If you tell them you are trans they won’t feel you anymore
Unless they are gay
And so say all of us
Mary was on a step ladder in the bathroom spying on her husband Stan,through a hole in the wall…which he had drilled for spying on women sunbathing nude in their back gardens> He was climbing over the fence with Emile their cat on his shoulder.
I think it’s ridiculous, she muttered . Surely Emile, a cat, can jump over the fence by himself.But Emile was very limp,she saw with horror He can’t be dead, she whispered to herself fearfully.She jumped down off the and hit her head on a tap… a dangerous event for a human with weak retinae or retinas Oh,my! That hurt…I’d better be careful.She flew down stairs and met Stan in to the kitchen Emile has got concussion, Stan said unhappily Is he not dead,she wondered anxiously. No, he only fell off Annie’s roof.I am sure he’ll come to. Good Lord.What made him go up there and more important,how did he manage it manage to climb up? You’d better ring 999,he informed her graciously yet boldly
If you say so ,my dear.I’d do anything you ask.. Don’t put on that act! he said wantonly I mean it. A bit too late now. What do you mean? After 40 years with your mind on Wittgenstein,Dirac,Pascal and Kierkegaard,do you think I don’t know you made a mistake marrying me But whoever I married,I’d have read those same writers… Umphh,said Stan dolefully. Just then Dave,the bisexual transvestite paramedic ran in. Poor Emile,what have you done? He fell off Annie’s roof, but we have no theory as to how he got there,said Stan. Well, there’s no need to think of that… deal with reality.That’s my modus operandi! He gave Emile the kiss of life.
Emile came to…but was not pleased Why did you waken me up?I was having a lovely dream of walking down a silver path where I saw a big cat with shining fur and tender eyes looking at me.He just began to miaow when some fecking idiot woke me up… was he God? I can’t say,Emile,dear.But please do not swear. I’ll do whatever I fecking well feel like,he said. Good heavens, what has happened.Has he been reading dirty books? No, he was watching East Enders on TV… they all use the f word constantly. Well,Emile.God will have to wait… he’ll be glad if you do some kind work here on earth. Up yours,said Emile.I am sick of living here.I’ve been hoping for years Stan would mate with Annie but he has only managed a kiss. Perhaps it was the kiss of life,said Mary hopefully as it pained her to think Stan no longer desired her. Well, in a sense,you might have hit the snail on the bed said Stan thoughtfully.I know any further mention of philosophy will drive me mad! Now,Dave said,shall I make you some tea? Thank you Stan responded.I am half crazed already.Tea may save my sanity.But for what? Annie came in Did you know Emile was in a hot air balloon,she said in tones of wonder.How has he got down so fast? I fecking well fell out,the cat yawned proudly.Then I had a near death experience until this loon here brought me round. Emile,I’ve never heard you swear before! she whispered in a strange manner reminiscent of almost silent films starring unnames and forgotten beauties of long ago. Do you like it,baby? Emile asked. No I don’t. I’ve never said Feck in all my life. Well you have now,the cat informed her with a naughty smile. I think he’s possessed by demons.We’ll have to have him exorcised. But I like demons,Emile bawled .I’ve been good all my life and I am bored and depressed. So you believe swearing will help more than therapy? Emile got up and lit a cigarette nonchalantly with a certain ,je ne sais pas. Good grief,he’ll be having sex on the sofa next said Stan. What a good idea,said Emile, but I want my own room and an en suite..I mean to impress the next girl friend I have. Dave drank some tea and watched these old folk ponder. I am wondering where we went wrong,said Mary.All these years we’ve educate you privately and even had you baptised. Well.I am going to be a Jew,said Emile. I don’t think a cat can be a Jew… and you never ever had any interest in the spiritual before,why this? Well,when I was unconscious I realised that God exists…. But why a Jew? Well,they were the first to see God in a Burning Bush.. And the last too, thought Annie nervously. Well,said Stan.You want to smoke,swear ,make love and possibly enjoy wine and song.Is that not enough? Does God smoke and swear? There was a long silence and Emile answered Well,you see,Yes he does. I’m off said Dave.I have to ring the Pope. Why? asked Emile.I’m not going be a Catholic…. Well,said Dave,he ought to know that God is a cat.
Inside my mind I dream of pearls, Caterpillars,snails with whorls. I dream contented, all enwrapped; With reverie and dream I’m lapped. The inner seas will comfort me, While gods open my eyes to see
Oh,sweeter than confectionery Is my Oxford diction’ry. The words whirl round then fall to shape The sentences which my world make. This furnishing is rich and strange And magically self arranged.
Oh,sweeter than the love of man Is reading works of poets long gone; Feeling deeply their dark tides . Upon which our boat may glide. The sea infinite we float upon Is the same warm sea the ancients swam..
Sweeter still is the spring air And the blossom spreading fair. We’ll drown our selves in grassy fields To the gods of poetry yield. We’ll rise again and spring up tall To grow more ripe until we fall
The bus was due in five minutes.Mary applied some sunscreen and combed her hair gently with a cake fork while she wondered why she was going out.She looked into her phone camera to get her hair in order Alas, the familiar footsteps of Annie were heard on the patio
In she flew dressed in red and brown like a robin in winter except she wore pure wool How do you like my outfit, she cried girlishly Mary stared at her, noting the pale beige face makeup from Max Tucker and brick coloured lipstick from Wigan’s Makeup Outlet Store where Annie loved to browse for days on end. I think the brick coloured lipstick does not go with the scarlet jacket,Annie. Oh, don’t worry.It’s the in thing now to clash
That might be true but men won’t know it’s a fashion unless they read Vogue.Most don’t.
Never mind all that. I’ve brought Emile a new blanket
He’s not a dog,you know.Do cats need blankets?
If you drove it would protect the seat. I might go round the bend.If we drive we almost certainly would meet bends
Do fish get the bends,mewed Emile? We don’t know that.It only proves that a question can be asked in a human language but within that system there is no way of answering it,Mary told him quietly, thinking of Wittgenstein her husband’s former tutor.
First of all, fish probably can’t speak English or understand it.
How amazing, the little cat replied.How stupid can you get
Well a fish would think you were stupid for not being able to live in the sea.
So true,Emile sighed.Shall I try? Don’t be so ridiculous,Annie whispered.The sea in not near Knittingham. Mary can’t drive and you may drown. Then St Peter will be reading out all your sins
Can cats commit sins, asked Emile with surprise
Yes, because you know you have a choice.You can bite my hand or resist the temptation
I don’t feel like biting it now so if I did it would not give me pleasure.
For God’s sake, stop arguing.Anyone would think you’d been to the Synagogue, today Mary shouted
But in a Synagogue men argue about the Torah not about cats swimming,Emile replied
But then it gets to be a habit,Mary finished. Still many other people argue,Annie reminded her
But God does not want it,Mary said How do you know? He/She may love to hear it.It will provoke thought And it may provoke a Flood or you being turned into a pillow of salt,Mary screamed Pillar of Salt,Annie corrected he
Why do people not turn into pepper, the cat asked wisely. There is no pepper in the Dead Sea, the women agreed.~And black pepper/white pepper could be PIC They have red peppers in the Market.Annie mused.And yellow too But where does that leave us?Where was Mary going to and why has she not left for the bus stop?
Was it something wicked that she was trying to do in secret? We’ll see tomorrow I expect
Old man,bending over, arched like a fallen moon in a dark lilac November sky. joy and pain wrestle my heart across the emptiness and toss it up like a damp rocket to fall in a hidden corner where mice live. Would that not be a good ending,to be dust to these little creatures nesting in my chewed green twine and my tartan basket? They have eyes and shiver in my hand when I rescue them from the cat… as any heart might. Now night falls on the newspaper basket where the damp Times and the Guardian mix into glue and tomorrow the sun will rise and it will just be the garbage with no poetic undertones nor deathly hushes.. Heather and a silver light you stand on a hill top like a god looking over his domain. Strong and now weak it’s the humane condition Everlasting life is too dangerous for humans. Silent,motionless,home of beetles bit by bit we fall away into the mother soil with cracked jugs and dropped coins for a future academic to dig into. Transparent hand touches me. Whose might it be
Annie went onto Mary’s patio at 10 am and began to water her many tubs.The watering can was filled with rain water though the weather was now a little drier.Emile ran behind her admiring her tight black jeans from Calvin Klein and her red blouse from Bowlands of Wrath.Suddenly the bedroom window opened and Mary leaned out. Hi Annie,I have not gone away after all. Why not? asked her caring and dear neighbour Well,I completely forgot because I was out last night meeting a man from Soul-mates and got home so late I slept right through the alarm. A pity you didn’t bring him back,said Anniem licking her lips. I can’t bring any man here so soon,Mary informed her.I rang the hotel and cancelled my booking.With the weather so odd even Blackpool Illuminations would not cheer anyone up.I didn’t know which clothes to take either. Isn’t it interesting that as we get better off we get problems like that,remarked Annie. When we were young we had so few clothes we had no trouble packing. Mary laughed.My first year after University I bought two cotton dresses in Woolworth’s.I thought they were ok but later discovered they were almost transparent.Anyway I wore themn But now few women wear dresses.Look at you in those jeans and you a pensioner! Annie gazed up to Mary, revealing her thick Revlon skin polish and L’Oreal cream rich foundation in golden grey-beige.Her parted lips were coated in moisture rich coral lipstick by Mussolini and Co. of Argentina and Vienna. Mary was wearing a long nightgown made of pure nylon decorated with photos of cats of all breeds.Emile had given it her for her birthday.He had managed to type it into the google box on his laptop paying with Stan’s credit card from the Bank of Vichy and Nice,France. I want some tea,Mary said.Soon she appeared in a polyester house dress from Daxon of Paris and the Ruhr. lt was covered in pictures of snakes. Why,those snakes are rather horrible, Annie said. I know snakes are in fashion but I shall avoid them.I saw some trousers in Marks but they might give a man the wrong impression. That is sexist ,Mary told her shyly.They might give a lesbian the wrong impression too. Oh,dear. Isn’t life hard now when we have to be so careful what we say.I wonder if it is because of social alienation and the rapid changes in demographics that we need rules when before we knew all our neighbours and they knew us.With strangers we need more rules. I agree, said Mary defiantly.And I just saw a book called “Compassionate Assertiveness Training”She laughed. Shall we send one to Donald Trump.Can you believe what America is like if a man like that can be President? Well,it’s a democracy so if Satan lived there he could stand if he had the money.. The two women suddenly fell silent.Emile was puzzled as they rarely paused like this once they got going Is he the anti-Christ, purred the little cat. Satan or Donald Trump? asked Annie. Well …. we’ve never seen Satan as yet…But we must watch out in case he comes here to punish the weak and the sick. Well that gave them all a moment of wonder before Mary grilled some bacon and cut some bread from a loaf she got in the Victoria Bakery. Here you are,she said to Annie,handing her a sandwich.Better eat anyway,whatever happens.Give me some hot tea,quick And so pray all of us. For he’s a Bally Woodfiller, He’s a Wooly Sad Triller And all day so are us.
When you are learning something new the first step in learning a skill such as knitting or cooking is to decide the answer to the following question it’s also appliance to learning mathematics and other games
What will I do when I make a mistake?
This is important because we may have been brought up to feel that everyone can do everything right straight away as soon as they’ve been told how to do it. Then it’s a horrible shock when you find you can’t do the algebra equation or the cake comes out flat
In that situation any mistake is a disaster.
When you are learning from mathematics you have to accept that when you try to solve a problem you will have to evaluate it as you go along and even before you get near the end you may decide that you don’t like the method you’ve chosen because maybe you can tell it’s not going to give you the kind of answer that will be sensible or its an ugly methid; it’s not beautiful
If ourse when you first start you don’t know what is beautiful and there’s no definition of what is beautiful in mathematics it’s something that you will gradually learn as you do it or you will never learn it because you get up or it’s not important to you
If you learning knitting you have to decide your attitude.
If you know you will make mistake she will quite calmly stop, examinine and probably undo a few stitches and then start again
It’s a to and fro
I can’t say exactly what it’s like for art but I think you’re constantly evaluating what you’re doing and developing an instinct
No doubt if you constantly produce horrible ugly images that you don’t like and and that nobody else likes then maybe you’re doing the wrong thing but if you have a strong desire to do it then you should just keep on regardless of what other people think
In something as difficult as art it’s probably better to go to a teacher to start with.Abd many people don’t want to produce something original they just want to copy something which pleases them.
I think there’s a proverb
The time to make preparations is before you begin And deciding what you will do when you make a mistake is part of the preparation
My following this method I was able to knit a Shetland lace sweater which I would never have been courageous enough to try if I thought that I had to do it right all the time and in fact the two and the fro of forwards and backwards led to a feeling of peace and calmne
Of course you can’t make a mistake when you are bringing up children in certain situations for example you can’t let the children play with the carving knives and then when they’re stabbed themselves decide that you’ve got to go back and start again because you can’t do that when somebody’s been injured
So they must be rules as well so that when you’re doing something you must consider if it’s dangerous to other people.
And if you have children you must teach this to them as well
In teaching in the classroom or at home punishing people for making mistakes is not in the long run going to make them learn well
When red sun drops and cooling night rolls in Darkness masks both danger and our vision Ancient minds fear day won’t come again Courage for the delicate seems thin We wrestle with our indecision When low sun drops and a new night rolls in But now , fresh stricken by the dread of sin Who protects us from derision? Our ancient mind fears day won’t come again As we sleep we’re entertained within Bold dreams squander all illusion When sunset comes the darkest night rolls in In dreams we see new life arising Then fancy turns to full communion The ancient mind dreads day won’t come again Despite such angst, our sacred life began When sperm leaped up in proud confusion. When deep sun dropped and a new night rolled in All human hearts cried,Day shall come again”
When I was a child I used to repeat the words during mass as follows
Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy
I wasn’t sure why we were asking God for mercy. I didn’t know about the war then and certainly did not know about the Holocaust nor about Stalin
Where my childish piccadillas so serious that I needed god’s mercy?
Sometimes my father beat me did he need god’s mercy? Well I realized later he had a cancer at that time and died when I was a so I think his bad behavior was caused by that. It didn’t happen very often but yes it was not a good thing and perhaps he did need a little mercy but nothing like the mercy that Hitler needed.
Of course you wouldn’t get god’s mercy unless you repented of your evil doing and Hitler showed no sign of repentance. I leave it to God to decide on his fate
What is happening in the world at the moment is terrible. It’s horrendous. From Gaza to the Ukraine to Sudan and many other places wars are being fought and lasting for a long time.
Having Donald Trump upend the relationships between all the countries in the world and cause great fear and terror especially in certain immigrants even when they’ve got permission to stay in the country long term.
It’s very hard to weigh up evil and to decide which is worse what is happening in the Ukraine or what is happening in Gaza their render us speechless and innumerate
Evil is unmeasurable because even killing one person is destroying one entire world.
My brother-in-law was traveling home today and as he couldn’t go to church before leaving, he broke his journey in a city in the Midlands where there is a cathedral and went to a service there!
I forgive you your twins. But you must dissent when you can.
All unmarried versions please report to the press bitterly
Guardian angels leave heaven on sight.
Cheerio, Elaine’s son
Hail glorious St Hat Trick. Lord, it’s hearsay. Lord, I’m worser Forgive all dear trespassers. Blessed is the foot of thy broom. Pay for us now and the whore at our death. I believe in none,God. The communion of tyrants
Criminals will be persecuted in rhyme . Jesus wants me for his angels. The Ten Demanding Torments are here. Have you paid for your wrecks yet? For all the saints who laboured at their tests For all the painted ghosts Remember man thy tart is bust Ash to ash,dust if you must Forgive us an hour’s trespassing and we shall be in heaven Please do as you would have fun by.
The vital line was drawn with one brush strokeThe way the back leant curving into spaceThe dance and danger both are thus evokedLike a play, a drama, fire and smokeA dance performed so swiftly and with graceThe vital line was drawn with one brush strokeThe heavy bull is pounding,is provoked.A threat, a man, intrudes into his spaceThe dance and danger both are still evokedSee, the matador throw out his cloakA dash of black, and here we see his faceThe vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The mind needs just a hint to see the wholeWe fill the present with our past distasteThe dance and danger, mirroring dark smoke
How my heart speaks 