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  Oct 2022 Shane Michael Stoops
Winn
Leather boots perched on a rail,
and not a speck of dust is showing.
A cigarette between the lips,
but there's no ember glowing.
A redhawk circles overhead,
but all I hear is chickens crowing...
All was then and all is lost. You're clinging to the final showing...

Number One and number Two were banished into cyberspace.
And further down the line the one who envied to usurp the space.

I was sitting on the Mighty Mountain. I watched the Wishanabes go
marching through the lowly valley,
following row by row.
But that was then and this is now.
It doesn't matter anyhow;
your fleeting sense of stolen fame.
You have lost your "toughest game".

Digging bones and brushing dirt,
abandoned in your lonely hurt...
a forgotten name, forgotten face
lost within cyberspace.


22022022 © Winnie Carolina
22022022 © Winnie Carolina
We exist to have one speck of stardust in a universe which we call our own

Merely one tiny point in a cosmos that can't care even if compelled or forced.

no heaven.
no hell.

We are here by fate unknown to us ******.

We may be here by our sins or by the fate of our dice.

We are not even the end result so desired,

We see ourselves too highly.

We try so hard to make our little speck brighter

We hurt ourselves trying to brighten our piece.

Yet, in these infinite cosmos,
We, our specks, mean nothing.

Still, we struggle, why?

We are without a doubt the most important specks in the cosmos
Every one of those little specks,
no matter how bright
no matter how small,

Without them all, we would have nothing

The ones that shine brighter and attract others to rightful causes
Cause entropy to reverse and for disorder to become order.

As Joni Mitchell once said,
"We are stardust, we are golden, we are all the same,"

When we are not together,
we skip lonely through the void,
awaiting what we know we will never find.

Apart, we are merely dust, drifting silently searching for love.

When we give up that hopeless dream,
then finally, by becoming one,

We can create stars.
i love you, maia.
You hid pieces of yourself,
In places you would never look.
Hidden within those inner landscapes;
Unable to remember their names.
You made me soft;
A Marshmallow drop that melted sweetness,
and tasted like nostalgia on your tongue
In that place where camps fires smoked and we smouldered,
Orange with a glow
that crackled envy,
I saw forever in those flames.
Just a little tiny taste of eternity
Reaching for me, as I reached for you.
I curled and crisped,
Dribbled into that abyss
and bubbled up in the heat.
The loves that last a summer and burn out quickly. Old memories and old campfires remain.
  Apr 2021 Shane Michael Stoops
Diana
You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.
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