Fire and Fury (and Something More)

As I sit, looking at the sun rise

over a wet and dreary Paisley,

I think about death, about loss—

about Dad, and those who faced

the Reaper before him.

-

Fell at life’s end,

whether expectant

or through some cruel surprise.

-

I am weary but not wary.

I am sad,

but not soaked with sullen dejection.

-

My grief—

it rips right through me,

shatters everything in its path.

-

Treacherous, this love—my heart—

still, I open it and dare,

dare to let others into it.

-

Foolish, but loving, I am.

The weakness and the strength

of humanity.

-

We give and give,

knowing death will take

from us and everyone

in the end.

-

Though it feels like

the sword of Damocles

is held aloft above us,

-

I face the blade

of death itself and say:

No.

-

I will not live

with fear and hurt

hanging over me,

overshadowing it all.

-

I will sit in my grief—

let it wash over me,

embitter me and change me,

impact me and shrink me.

-

But I will work with it.

-

Become stronger in

my frailty,

my humanity.

-

Forever broken.

Forever shaped.

Forever beautiful.

-

I am not your philosopher, not your guide.

I am but a man

who has loved and hurt,

known the best and worst

of humanity,

and soured myself

in the sharp force of loss.

-

Its knife may pierce and wound,

but death will never have mastery—

will never take from us

the mystery and beauty of life.

-

We don’t live to die.

We live—

and then we die.

-

What we do between—

that’s the gold,

the cream,

the sanctuary we build

before the end finds us.

-

Oversaid, overplayed—

who the hell cares?

If it’s worth saying,

it’s worth resaying.

-

Is youth wasted on the young?

Is living wasted on the living?

-

What are you looking for,

or to—

and what do you hope to gain?

-

A life for others,

in the halls of power,

commerce,

or industry?

-

A life for others

like you,

with you—

by blood,

by romance,

by love,

by friendship?

-

I am not your philosopher,

your guide,

not your god or creator—

may not even be your

friend or associate,

the one whose thoughts

you care least about.

-

Does that mean I’m wrong?

-

Am I wrong to want a smile?

To want to feel something—

anything—

the love,

the lust,

the pain,

the cost?

-

Disabled and disdained,

though ready to pick up

where my heart left its trail,

from the cradle to the pyre—

from the formative to the end.

-

I feel providence has given me

influence,

to direct at anyone

who needs it,

who wants it,

while also seeking out

those who don’t feel they do.

-

You see—

fire and fury,

packed into sermons.

The clever and scholarly

stand to the attention

of others in crowds,

lapping up

their fruitless offerings.

-

Not I.

-

Life is a poor play

told by an idiot—

full of fire and fury,

and amounting to

nothing.

-

But—

it’s what we do

with that nothing.

-

It’s the good,

the real good we do,

that makes our nothing

more than

just nothing.

-

I pledge to love hard,

live fully,

and give of myself

to others.

-

But know:

I will falter.

But know:

I will fault-er.

But trying

is better

than doing

just

nothing.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Yep, it's about that big thing. The finale of our existences. And yes, it's inspired by the passing of my Father, Hugh Stewart, Shug or Shuggie to just about everyone. And yes. Shakespeare and Macbeth are in there.

Pair it with this song, because this song, is just a straight-up banger. From Arab Strap's Malcolm Middleton, We're All Going To Die. And yes, the video is Christmassy, because it was released originally for Christmas one year.

Here are some other things if you wanna deep dive Paul's work.