Diary of an Emotional Fool

Corps or coeur?…..all day long the two words played duel in my shadow,
In one moment the Coeur won the battle of the sword,
In the next, it was my lost soul bedaubed with bodily heat;
Fire, a burning sensation, tantalizing and titillating filled up my wild vivarium..
I was burnt, I was hurt, I was loved…by the fire.
Fire, my lust enticed me dearly or should I call it the unconventional way?
And all I wanted was everything unconventional, wasn’t it?
I relished the thought of eating rowdily all things weird…
At last appeared the plate decorated with all items irregular …
You asked me what was making me eschew the plate…
Nothing…I said…just allowing my eyes to play voyeur…
What a plate! What a plate!....a plate of wild memories, wild moments,
Wild passion and…and a little bit of emotion!

Emotion!...you laughed at the word…you called me an emotional fool,
Right you were, a baby, a parasite still dwells in my den…
For aeons I had tried to cut its umbilical cord from my heart, only in vain.

And now I ask u, my other alter ego…the juggler of words,
The conjurer equipped with grey matter, the captain of my vague being,
I seek your opinion, can emotion be aborted when passion is in bed?
And you negate, you disagree,
Might be you were a Church devotee

In your previous naissance…
Otherwise why would the imagery of 'abortion’ make an atheist like you shudder?
My intellectual alter ego, you reply, passion germinates emotion…
Elated, my eyes are blinded by the light of optimism, momentarily,
And again I sink in the nadir of my usual dark self…..
I laugh silently at my moments…..they always remain ‘Gaston’
The menacing child-man….I could never chide them or tame them…
Let them remain the truant boy, I love them for what they are, don’t I?

-The Shepherdess