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I was always turning around to see
who was behind  me
and there in lies the danger
and so the past holds me in its arms...

...the tip of your cigarette glows in the dark.
(the light without a flame)

you are sitting in a chair.
I m sitting in a chair.
we don't speak.

that is my everlasting memory of you.

the fire had taken flight.

you bought books and never read them.
you always used too much perfume.

I had no time for you, lonesome dove.
my heart of sand,
but thunder now follows my heart,
with the perfume of things lost.
In the bite of blue mornings
before the swirl of the
buttery sun disturbs
the dreams of birds
I write I drink coffee
I write I drink coffee
I cross out words within
the belly of black clouds
I try to disappear
this kind of poetry
is never offended by
your distance it has no
need for company or
meaningless conversation
it waits for the sound to fall
it waits for the subtle sense
of true isolation
it waits for the ghostly
stare of memories
it waits for the cold sting
of lost love  
it waits for the tears
it waits ...
Clay.M
Have you wondered how tomorrow looks
When you've lied about today?
Have you squandered opportunities
When you've refused to play?
Have you sought the possibilities?
Have you broken through the ruse?
Have you shed your limitations
And tried to fill some bigger shoes?


Will you spread your wings to fly
Across the chasm in your life?
Have you shared your closest fears
With the one you call your wife.
Do you long to break the mold
And try to start the day afresh?
Is there courage there to stride out,
Have you the will to make it mesh?


Is there a shade of self-deception,
Is a color bar installed?
Are there feelings of inadequacy
Has your darling not yet called?
Does your flaccid nature falter
When pinned against the wall?
Have you moments of reluctance
To recall it all, at all?


Does it all really matter
That your world is locked within,
That the things which hold you back
Are simply things you revel in?
That the greatest limitations
Are the ones you self-impose,
That the key which locks the door
Is locked outside the door you close?


Marshalg
reflecting@theBach
Mangere Bridge NZ
28 July 2009
This work was, unbeknown to me, adopted and publicly orated before a school assembly in the USA by a High School student with a broken leg.
She wheeled herself across the stage on a skateboard whilst orating...and was rewarded with rapturous applause from her fellow students.
She sent me a video of the occasion....
and, strangely, I couldn't help myself, I wept great tears of gratitude.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
time is limited these days.
those one admired in youth
devastate us now.

can we know all things, we
only went twice ?
I was thinking that If we create an all-knowing, all-wise and all powerful AI, we should probably pay someone to sit next to its electrical plug.
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