Often my doggies lie at the front door
and stare longingly at the world
through the windowpane.
They can see clearly
freedom,
sunshine,
wide open spaces
outside.
It seems to be right
within their reach,
yet something impenetrable
is in their way,
the nature of which
they cannot comprehend.
The mechanics of door opening
is a deep mystery to them
and they display great ingenuity
in trying to decipher this dilemma.
Sometimes they jump up and down at the door,
yapping and wagging their tails,
as if their impatience will
make the door open more quickly.
Other times they resort to aggressive tactics,
clawing at the handle or
digging under the sill
to force their way out.
Occasionally, they will lie patiently,
having great faith in their belief
that the door is destined to swing open
sooner or later.
Once in a while they act as if there is no door
at all, having convinced themselves
that they are outside already.
Our noses too are pressed
against the closed door
of illusion and ignorance.
Beyond it we can clearly discern
freedom,
joy,
beauty.
And yet some inexplicable force
is keeping the access blocked
and we are forced to mimic
the actions of our pets
as we strive to reach the other side,
where ideal life lies.
Some of us jump impatiently up and down
as if this would make
happiness appear faster.
Some resort to aggressive tactics,
trying to force their way out of their misery
and ensnare contentment in their grasp.
Others wait patiently for joy to
come to them, having faith that
their virtuous behaviour will be rewarded
with bliss, if not in this life then the next.
A few delude themselves as well as others
into believing
that they have reached fulfillment already,
regardless of how they feel inside.
Most of us, however,
have lost all hope of ever seeing
the portal swing open
and spend all of our days gazing
wistfully
at the richness of life
through the windowpane
of our mind.
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Comments: 27
Remembering what it felt like to not have access to outdoors and that freedom. Dread returning to four walls, doors with locks and chains and city traffic for as far as one can bicycle in a four hour outing.
I feel a whimpering growl forming in the back of my throat.
I think the power of much of Kafka´s writing has to do with K realizing that he only has to walk through a gate, a door or meet the clerk or get to the Castle, but his ´nafs´ or dimwitted ignorant side that lives in illusion won´t let him!
In any case, you show the customary deep insight into human nature that we´ve come to expect from you on this blog. I liked reading this provocative fable poem as a poem, in a strange way your setting it out in free verse gave it an incantatory quality.
Let me be the first to say, brilliant as always, Sir Boris of the Bordello of Brevity. You couldn´t have been pithier, with or without a bone to throw to the dogs.
Blessings and best wishes - S.
I've never really thought of dog's as "man's best friend." Rather, they are the pets who are the most human-like.
Thank you for posting this to The Surreal Circus. You are now featured.
When the dogs are staring out the window, as if in deep thought, I bet if you could hear what's going on in their brains, it'd sound a lot like a constant low monotone. It's the same sound I imagine in people's brains when they're in front of me at Burger King, staring up at the menu... waiting to understand what they're looking at... :)
Perfect allegory, perfectly explained.
John Walter said it all more intelligently than I. I love his mastery of your art almost as much as your art! It is a clean and simple (on the surface) tale that simply says it all.