TRADITION

Summary

The poem "TRADITION" by Josh Lonsdale explores the concept of tradition as a pervasive, consuming, and often negative force that shapes human identity and experience.

Abstract

In the evocative poem "TRADITION," Josh Lonsdale delves into the dual nature of tradition, portraying it as an insatiable entity that consumes individuality and dictates societal norms. Lonsdale depicts tradition as a force that overshadows personal identity, reducing individuals to mere categories and labels. The poem suggests that tradition is an oppressive construct, suffocating authenticity and enforcing conformity, while also acknowledging its deep-rooted presence in the human psyche. Through vivid imagery and metaphor, the poem conveys the struggle against the weight of tradition, which the author likens to a black hole, a blood clot, and a tattoo on the soul. Despite its suffocating grip, the poem implies that there is a yearning to break free from tradition's constraints and to redefine one's existence beyond its confines.

Opinions

Tradition is criticized for its suppressive influence on individual expression and identity.
The poem conveys a sense of emptiness and hollowness that tradition instills in people.
Tradition is portrayed as a relentless force that consumes and corrodes, leaving individuals questioning their worth.
The author suggests that tradition creates a false sense of depth, implying that it artificially constructs layers of meaning that may not truly exist.
There is a sense of resistance against tradition, with the poem hinting at a desire for authenticity and meaning beyond societal expectations.
The poem reflects on the cyclical nature of tradition, comparing it to a goldfish bowl where people endlessly chase temporary highs and struggle with lows.
Lonsdale questions the role of higher powers or consciousness in the context of tradition, hinting at a search for spiritual or existential significance.
The poem concludes with a stark portrayal of tradition as a destructive element, akin to a tumor on the face of human consciousness.

TRADITION

Author’s own.

That word tradition is a black hole. That word tradition is a vacuum. That word tradition has a deep throat and always swallows.

That word tradition has no gag reflex. That word tradition sits on stiff fingers whole and sucks them dry all to the bone.

Suck me hard corrode me slow, show me I’m built of layers that I am deep and depth exists because, beneath our pigmentations genetic mutations orientations and occupations tradition tells us we are nothing.

Tradition is a premeditated language in motion. Tradition is the wandering finger. Tradition thumbs the catalogue. Tradition is pixelated nipples and shaved armpits, a label, a category, a height, a maybe swipe left or a likely swipe right, Will you fill this hole for the night? for I am feeling empty.

That word tradition is a blood clot. That word tradition is an ink blot. That word tradition is the tattoo you got on the inside of your split —

Tradition is a simulation A drip feed of silicone sex scenes A premature false start Chekhov’s gun missing its cue

Tradition sticks like treacle, and no one ever shed a single breath in this goldfish bowl round and round we go chasing highs and shaking lows swallowing chlorinated water fluoride toothpaste and

pills pills pills pills pills pills pills pills pills pills pills pills

interference appearance nuclear parents

tired-and-tested old and new welcome to chicken-brain zoo tax death contracts blindness do you think God will ever find us?

Tradition is a black hole the aperture of a noose the tumour-mole on the chewing cheek of human consciousness.

Thanks for reading.

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