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While sitting in my garden,
one summer's day.
Watching the children,
where they love to play.

just how important,
a focal point can be.
Climbing frame or leafy shade,
A happy place to be.

Planted when we moved in,
with children very small.
Both  branches and family,
have grown very tall.

Abundant pink blossom,
bringing forth it's fruit.
Beautiful red cherries,
to eat or take root.

Trees are special people,
with a language of their own.
Making lots of friends,
wherever they are grown.

Now that we older,
branches aging to.
Our Family  Cherry Tree,
it's friendship gives to you.
by Randy Newman

broken windows
and empty hallways
a pale dead moon
in the sky streaked with gray
human kindness is overflowing
and I think it's going to rain today

scarecrows dressed
In the latest styles
frozen smiles to keep love away
human kindness is overflowing
and I think it's going to rain today

lonely
lonely
tin can at my feet
think I'll kick it down the street
that's the way to treat a friend

bright before me
the signs implore me
to help the needy
and show them the way
human kindness is overflowing
and I think it's going to rain today


posted by
soulsurvivor
Judy Collins, to my mind
does the best version of this song
It's on YouTube

I used to listen to it
as a teen and cry

I still do


---
I plug in my ear buds and let the world fall away
the ambient beats free my mind from the petty problems of reality
if only I could remain forever in this quiet limbo
offered by my musical realm.
The egg shells that
I've walked upon
have finally
turned to dust.
Death, the here long after!
Or do I mean the long here after?
I don’t really know…what a strange thing death is.
Consciousness is like a stream they say
Never really believed them until now
For my thoughts do run like a river (Styx?)
Right through the valley where the shadow of Death walks
That’s right…Death doesn’t ride.
He ******* walks like the rest of us
Blistered feet, soles of the dead can get blisters
And they do! I’ve seen them!
And at the bottom of their souls lies desire
Desire for an answer, for purpose
Never content even when an answer does find them, finds us
We keep on looking
Keep on walking
We waste our lives as worrying wanderers
Walking hand in hand with Death as we realize…
We’re already dead
I write most of my poetry using the Stream of Consciousness technique. I start writing and whatever comes out comes out. The more I write, the more I realize I have a weird fixation on, and maybe even a fear of, death.
I'll park my car at the library
And walk to the park
A day at the park

I'll bring lunch
And maybe some
Stuffed animals too

Hehe
Have you the slightest idea of what
It's like to have a person you love
dissolve into madness?

He dove in head first to a bottomless
pit of insanity.
& no matter how much we try.
We can't even send him a memory of
what the sun used to looks like.

Let's say you have a different outlook on life,
& the people you love most tell you it's not real.
That you're demented,
and everything you see as real isn't.

Then arises the question:
If perception is key, when does it become a reality?
What is real?

& if physics is correct,
this is all just a probability.
If so, then why does it hurt so much?
When physics and emotions mix...
I don't trust myself enough to write any more.
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