Ennui by Ike Harijanto
It is not blind
for it has no eyes.
A glob blubbery blob, marshmallowy,
yellow, bloated Ennui
blows thick smoke from a hookah drooping
off its thick puckering lips.
For Life and Love it’s an ogre so hungry.
Beware of its smoke for it can swallow
whole and drag low,
then all motions drags a clunky
laborious chain of “Why?”
Marshmallow Ennui imperceptibly
turns into sticky molasses Depression quickly.
It’s not a morphing; it’s a giving of way,
for Depression is a desperate try
against falling so deeply asleep that is Ennui.
It drags you into a gray-brown bog,
Blowing its drowsy fog.
I fall asleep without knowing it,
thinking I’m awake, thinking I’m aware.
Ennui is a know-it-all thinking, “I know too much.”
Ennui is an armchair traveller claiming, “Been there, done that.”
Ennui is jadedness yawning, “Meh,
seen everything already.”
Familiarity turns into a malady.
But don’t waste your life feeling guilty,
For it’s not you
who says, “All is done; nothing to do.”
How did I fall asleep? I don’t know;
Didn’t catch myself nodding.
In this thick heavy fog, God of Light, please show
Just a needle of Your Light piercing.
From this aggressive vortex pull of Sleep,
I want out, I want to wake!
What are you, Ennui?
A resistance born of negativity,
a lack of meaning of life, or merely,
a superfluous entity?
What an irritating allergy
this chronic, addictive serving of me.
Why are you here? What are you trying to tell me?
More importantly, how do I
widely open my eye?
Thrill is not its remedy,
for Ennui’s not a hole
for the Muse to fill with lively creativity.
Maybe it’s a bothersome additional
to simply shoo, shoo.
Can’t reason with that entity.
Need I take it so seriously?
Ennui, ennui, go away
Come back another…
Well actually, don’t bother!
– Ike Harijanto
* The hookah is a reference to a poem by Charles Baudelaire entitled “To the Reader” in his Flowers of Evil