Carpe Diem on Fridays
Vanity of vanities; All is Vanity
Repeating this mysterious phrase
and then in the same breath
declaring it a true fact
let me know you were depressed
or at least resigned. In today's world
seeing all joys and sorrows
as occasioned by someone's ego,
self-centered, blind to what ever else
was out there. And few, says the Book
of Wisdom, discover such misery
So I said "Cheer up--there's a place
where nobody's ego is worth much--
overwhelmed with overload.
and more than anonymous"
And you said "Where?" despite the fact
that travel was no solution.
"The internet," I said "where millions
of signals trample tiny wires,
speak in short words, even letters
that stand for words, like IMHO,
Sometimes dumped in no particular order
But satisfaction is guaranteed,
hurling them out in space,
telling off the universe.
It's free access to Eternity,
Just don't use your Social Security number."
You spread out your toes
on quadrupedal feet
and arched a back of nine lives.
"No, Vanity is worse than that.
It's the veritable Soul of Cyberspace
In our days of wisdom, vanity was
More like air. More like vapor.
Where mummies lasted hundreds of years
so spirits could return but never did.
Then Latins shifted it to "Empty"
And after Sartre it meant "Nothing."
And now nothing means anything, anymore.
So now there's nowhere
for philosophical cats to go."
I was at a loss to comfort
such 'strophic vanity,
the kind that discounts
So I said, "Let's have fish tonight"
If you've a comment on her poem, L.Fullington
would be pleased to hear from you.