A poet and writer exchanging words and thoughts. The Coffee house poet told the writer. We can never win. Jack London once wrote. “The gods always win. Men believe they can defeat God and in the ending. God will win. Make us learn sadness and great loss.
The writers drank his coffee slowly and he told the poet. ” I have watched you since I came to Monterey. You cannot win, you have surrendered. You had accepted the Gods terms. Made a friend with the enemy, allowed your emotions to be killed and your dreams to be murdered. You sit and you are waiting for nothing my friend.”
The Poet accepted the words with sad heart and he told the writer. I know the Gods always win. I have watched men work and work. Death is their final peace. I have watched great love faded away to distance memory. Once lovers turn enemies, accepting little. Just waiting for final journey to be relieved of their heavy weight. The kids born with great dreams, their eyes turn cold when they learn. God is not kind. He show us life raw and cold.
The writer took him to the sea. The Pacific was alive and well. The waves danced strongly and they tempted the poet to suicide board the wild pacific this day. He told him. “Once, all of us believed, love was holy. The madness of youth made us know great madness and hope. We could be kings and lovers of the complex ladies. We would travel, dance and drink till we could not move no-more . Maybe you are right. God’s trickery, to make us feel we can masquerade as kings, lovers and have perfect life and endings. I believe the Gods don’t concern themselves with us. We are just passing through. We make our decisions. Bad or good. We deserve our due end. When work is everything. We have nothing. When love died. We killed her. Many have showed us. The Gods like the dance, the laughter and the good ending.”
The Poet thought a second and he told the writer. You are right my friend. The irony of a good life. Is to know fasting when love is near. Make the love everlasting and so sweet. Don’t work till the body and hands are raw and tire. Find a center of work and life. You are right my friend. We must savor the good days and forget the bad ones. We must allow the children to be children, as long as we can. My regret, is I did nothing to stop war. War make men and women cold and direct. If God is so kind. What do we send our best to learn, war and death?
The writer told him. Men are foolish. They believe gun and soldiers are the way to peace. The Gods must believe man is filled with hate and madness. Sometime my friend. I believe men are born with the need to test life. Maybe war support to be? Maybe men are more savage than the common beast. The tragedy of having children. We will allow governments to teach our children war before love. Blood before the taste of trembling kiss. It is sad to accept and denial the truth. The whim of a few decide this world journey. Can’t blame the Gods my friends.”
The poet whispered quietly. You are right my friend. The Gods must be disappointed with us. We want land, oil and wealth over concern, kindness and love. I believe we must teach our children a better way. Stop the greedy men from destroying all things that are beautiful. I wish I knew how.