A beautiful poem from Erica Jong that reflects my own desire to declare myself for joy this coming year...
I, Erica Jong, in the midst of my life,
having had two parents, two sisters,
two husbands, two books of poems
& three decades of pain,
having cried for those that did not love me
& those who loved me- but not enough
& those whom I did not love-
declare myself now for joy
There is pain enough to nourish us everywhere;
it is joy that is scarce…
Unhappiness is cheap,
Childhood is a universal affliction.
I say to hell with the analysts of minus & plus
the life-shrinkers, the diminishers of joy.
I say to hell with anyone
who would suck on misery
like a pacifier
in a toothless mouth.
I say to hell with gloom…
Doom is cheap
If the apocalypse is coming,
let us wait for it in joy…
I resolve myself for joy.
If that resolve means I must live alone,
I accept aloneness.
If the joy house I inhabit must be
a house of my own making,
I accept that making…
No joy-denyer can deny me now.
For what I have is undeniable.
I inhabit my own house,
the house of joy…
The soul is contagious.
One man catches another’s
like the plague;
& and we are all patient spiders
to each other.
If we can spin the joy thread
& also catch it-
If we can be sufficient to ourselves,
we need fear no entangling webs…
How to spin joy out of an empty heart?
The joy-egg germinates even in despair.
Orgasms of gloom convulse the world;
& and the joy-seekers huddle together.
We meet on the pages of books & by beachwood fires,
We meet scrawled blackly in many-folded letters.
We know each other by free & generous hands,
We swing like spiders on each other’s souls.
Fear Of Pregnancy
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