The Bridge, a poem

Standing.

There on that path which leads away.

Only on this could the other be seen.

This way; that way…

The paths might meet, but it’s only illusion.

For as the bird flies you might see the cross,

But as the slug crawls, these two never coalesce.

Crawl,

                Crawl,

                                Crawl.

But always return.

By standing where they never meet,

One might see.

What is,

                What could,

                                What will never be.

Paradox.

The thing most needed,

The thing never got.

The thing most wanted,

The thing wanted not.

Good with cost,

                The intersection without cross,

                                Standing,

Standing,

Standing! Forever he waits!

Never willing to give up all he knows

that he might gain all he hopes.

                                                                Standing,

                                                Standing,

                                Standing,

                Standing,

Standing,

Looking,

Longing,

Wanting,

Walking,

Leaving.

Give me a story; a challenge to storytellers

Give me a story. One set in another time; one set in another country; one set in a different cultural mindset with different notions of justice, politics, and love.

I’m tired of reading stories set in a kingdom, with an established monarchy, wherein the only way for a happily ever after requires the abolition of the monarchy, dethronement of the king, and institution of some anachronistic democracy.

I’m tired of reading stories set in a time of arranged marriages with an age-gap, wherein the romance reads passionate & lusty ‘falling in love’ emotions coupled with contemporary ideals of beauty, feminism, and self-choice.

I’m tired of reading stories set against a different cultural backdrop wherein the average public carries around 21^st century Western philosophical suppositions built on materialism, pragmatism, humanism, and Aristotelian logic.

I read fiction so that I can experience and understand different things. I’m familiar with my culture, my time period, my political system. But what does someone else think? Not every monarchy is evil; not every romance is lusty, not every culture ‘makes sense.’ So give me something new. Make me question today’s ideals. Make me want a just king. Make me appreciate a different kind of love. Make me familiar with differing perspectives.

Stop giving me today clothed in capes with funny names.

Give me a story. And I mean a real story. A good story.