The Dawn on a Ship of Fools
A Poem Inspired by "Madness and Civilization" by Michel Foucault.
The sun, that joyous sunrise blankets the
cruise ship; warm and tucked in.
The entertainers are fast asleep.
No music playing, no distracting voices;
Nothing is competing for the mind’s eye.
We are down in the doldrums.
Pervasive silence; a gaseous invasion.
The decks, the pools, the lounges infested.
They rampage the hall, burst your door open,
Hold you hostage. A great quiet sets in
and Reveal themselves: possibility and infinity.
Our common sickness.
Imprisoned by freedom,
Bound and gagged by the open sea.
We find the dreamer, dwelling
in the joys of the world. Unceasing
gratification in an infinite sea of desires.
Oh the peace a solid anchor can give.
We find the husk, floating; lost.
Namelessness.
Determined by the world; the current.
We find the journeyman never
arriving anywhere, constantly
In the fruitless expanse between the
Known and Unknown. We find the
fatalist; what happens will.
We are the walking dead.
Who will shake our passengers free?
Who has the courage to redirect
Their course
They will! Hooks cling to our rails.
Battle cries can be heard
Climbing the ship’s sides.
Pirates, the madman’s antidote.
The free souls of the oceans.
The sea made flesh.
“Dreamer’s dreams are really nightmares.”
Say the Pirates, and to the Husks, “What’s
Comfort without a name, voice, or passion?”
“Journeyman, your dreary pursuit will not
Give you the joy of rest and home, and
Fatalists, We will teach you transcendence.”
“To the Dreamers, Husks,
Journeymen, and Fatalists,
Learn from rare but dreadful silences.
If you are ready, I must ask:
Are you willing to risk your life?”