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 Aug 2014 Unreal Society
Sjr1000
How this could have
happened I will
never hear again
but it happened
all the same
exactly this way.

I was walking in
Prairie Creek
surrounded by my
soon to become silent
companions
when I noticed
events so
strange.

I dug my feet
into the dirt
they soon dissolved
and roots were
sprung
a nervous system extending into
the soil, oh the sounds the
smells I felt.

Where my skin once was
bark began to emerge
my fingers became tiny
clones of myself
each speaking different
tongues I could not comprehend
I made out these
words "our time has begun. "

I became a Buddha
on the road
a three quarter
smile on my lips
as my body grew
towards the sun
a thousand years
was now mine
and to it I did
succumb.

I watched the
generations pass
Christs come and
go and come again.
It all meant nothing
to me at all
as long as I have
this fog that nourishes
me and creatures living
in the canopy.

I stand at peace
for centuries
a thousand years
and still my life
is a five minute
dream filled with all
possible intensity
and former attachments
as the impermanence
of the illusion of
time was plain
to see
as human lives whirlwinds of
experience
dust devils
blew by me.

Lightening and fires burned me
but I survived.

Now that I stand in
this silence
lost in the meditation
of dreams
a solitary tree
the last standing
a brand new species
born of evolutions breeding
runs on the ground
dancing on my grave

I remember that
first day
the beginning of my
thousand year awakenings
I think it was only
yesterday.
I could have sworn
your eyes were hazel
when you told me
you loved me,

I could have sworn
they were never this shade
of rich mahogany-
but maybe they have lost
their intircate flecks of green
like the leaves do in Autumn.

I suppose winter was inevitable.
If you had to go,
It would compliment my heart
If you left nothing
He whistles round the corner
it's that time of day.
The nine to five has ended
and now it's time to play.
His lunchbox in his pickup truck
had been equipped with more then food.
The liquor store was the next stop
but not the fix for his mood.

Come six o clock he's made it home
and had a chance to eat.
By eat I mean drink his ***
finally kicks back his feet.
Day three without a shower
because there's no one to impress.
Half the time wearing yesterdays clothes
forgetting to undress.

By seven he's watching Wheel of Fortune
screaming slurs at the TV.
Never guessing puzzles right
and finding need to disagree.
His phones been off the hook for days
beeping in the distance.
Come Jeopardy the urge is strong
with more and more persistence.

He grabs the bag of goodies
holds it in his hand.
Getting excited by just the feel
of the syringe and rubber band.
He's sweating now profusely
anxious with desire.
With nothing left to lose (but life)
again he plays with fire.
 Aug 2014 Unreal Society
LN
I was a different poet a month ago.
I was a different poet last week, as well as yesterday.
I am a new one today
with stories and emotions
that clash and fight with each other
that is why some days my poems are sad
others are happy
because it all depends on what side of me wins today.
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