Trees of this forest
Are as grounded
In their ways
As my father’s
Inability to express emotions
Reminds me of times
I sought to find love
Gravitating to its sisters on the ground:
A failed attempt
Is a cruel reminder
Of how there’s an overabundance
Of an atmosphere around me
That lacks warmth.
Ernest Becker’s existential problem labeled “The condition of Individuality within Finitude”:
Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic creature, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity, who can place himself imaginatively at a point in space and contemplate bemusedly his own planet. This immense expansion, this dexterity, this ethereality, this self-consciousness gives to man literally the status of a small god in nature, as the Renaissance thinkers knew.
Yet, at the same time, as the Eastern sages also knew, man is a worm and food for worms. This is the paradox: he is out of nature and hopelessly in it; he is dual, up in the stars and yet housed in a heart-pumping, breath-grasping body that once belonged to a fish and still carries the gill-marks to prove it. His body is a material fleshy casing that is alien to him in many ways - the strangest and most repugnant way being that it aches and bleeds and will decay and die.
BANKSY’S BACK…WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT.
Of course we were going to show you the new BANKSY.
This one popped up on a stone wall on Clement Street in Bristol, United Kingdom.
Photo credit: Sa//y
- Wise man