I began reading a new book, having done my educational reading for the week. Apprentice of the Flower Poet Z by Debra Weinstein is good so far. It is an account (perhaps a roman a clef?) of a young undergraduate who becomes the assistant of a famous poet/professor. She writes with a nice bemused but still uneasy tone, a proper one for a young character not sure of herself, but realizing the perverse side of her experiences. One good metaphor used in the book was writing as a journey.
My particular skill, as it were, is more poetry in prose. I see the joy and power in writing that excites, energizes, educates, and entertains (note the alliteration). The book also made me think of a particular metaphor, probably not too original, the use of gender to represent politics. My thought was that Democrats (or perhaps, liberals or progressives) seem feminine, Republicans (conservatives?) masculine. This is partly why being "sensitive" is deemed by some a particularly dangerous sort of quality to have.
O, mighty flower!
You are the mouth, the lips, the song,
singing in the eternal garden.*
One seems more caring, accepting of fault, a bit unsure of themselves (though sure about certain things that matter to them), and supportive of "soft" things. There is fierceness to them, of course, and they have their flaws and all. For instance, they care for their children too much, not willing to accept their faults and the duty to punish. This, after all (if sadly necessary), is the role of the father.
And, they need a special strength of their own to deal with life's travails without becoming embittered in the process. [Some do ... in fact, they must deal with this fact, and bear it in their own way. The other side sometimes sneers at this victimhood, at times because it is deemed to be their own fault.]
It is in fact part of their power, though deemed by some a weakness, and perhaps taken advantaged of in the process. For they are less willing to harm, perhaps less able to, though they have their own ways to retain their own sort of power. This power seems foreign and dangerous to the other side, in part because they do not fully understand it.
The intersection of arrogance and betrayal
drove nails into the crucifix.
I make a cruciform sign to invoke the blessing,
and invoke my father,
a boxer,
bejeweled in the anger of the Cross family.*
Nonetheless, they are quite different from their opposite numbers, who are more rough sorts of people deep down, more warlike, and willing to be cruel to get what they want. They see life as something to be borne [a poetic word] that will result in some suffering (perhaps unfortunately, but so be it).
They too have a soft spot; though they are loathe admitting to it (and are only more fierce in covering up what they see as a weakness or lash at their alleged victimizers). Power must be protected at all costs, even if they have to be particularly savage in the process. Power is sort of like sex, which the other side sees in a more compassionate art, though they too are fierce in protecting it (in their own fashion).
I, of course, speak in stereotypes and broad brushes. Those on both sides will note the problems with the definitions of gender alone, not to speak of its application to politics. This is fine because no comparison or metaphor is perfectly apt, nor do I mean it to be here. Life is in part such a pleasant and intriguing thing to contemplate because of its complexity, no matter how we try to simplify it. Still, I found it an interesting exercise, no matter how true it ultimately might be deemed to be.
I bet it could be used to create a pretty good poem. If I was good at that sort of thing, that is.