Of moths and burning candles

[ambitious_wench]

(From "The Writer's Almanac", a daily email of interesting facts from the fascinating world of literary efforts)

Poem: "the lesson of the moth," by Don Marquis <http://www.donmarquis.com/> from The Best of Don Marquis (Doubleday).

the lesson of the moth

i was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense

plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself
on a patent cigar lighter
i do not agree with him
myself i would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity

but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself

Dorothy Parker used to say:

"I burn my candle at both ends
It shall not last the night
but Oh! my foes,
and Ah! my friends,
it makes a lovely light."

I feel like I've been put through a ringer. I'm tired, and my stomach threatens to constrict and return all the food I've eaten in the last 4 days to daylight. But that's an empty threat, as empty as my stomach.

My head pounds, and I am achy in places I'd forgotten I had. I've lived in this body for close to 44 years, now. I should know that I can't push myself for days at a time, on minimal sleep.

That being said, the weekend was wonderful. I finally met panacea1 who has since called me "goddess" because I gave her pesto from my garden. I met silverblue.

Of course saw Jazz and Amber, Moxie, The AWF and Lt. Heather, Malada and Deor, Dr. Kralk, and I know I am forgetting someone, but I can't remember who.

Now I am off to bed.
Edie

Comments

[panacea1.livejournal.com]

In context, you fed me homemade pesto and squash after I'd single-handedly navigated the Boston subway system on a scrambled egg burrito and approximately one ounce of airplane snack mix.

I think it was excellent pesto, but I don't remember *tasting* it on the way down.

Glad you like the mug! *snerk*

Oh! The MUG!!!!

[ambitious-wench.livejournal.com]

And Thena brought me a wonderful mug: "Lusty Wench".

How cool is that?

*grin*
Edie