I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker
As life passed through me
I have seen the eternal footman hold my coat and snicker
Leaving in this world only my memory

As life passed through me
I can hear my daughters cry
Leaving in this world only my memory
I know she only wonders why

I can hear my daughter’s cry
It hurts her this I know
I know she only wonders why
Her mother, did she have to go

It hurts her this I know
But she will learn to mend her heart
Her mother did she have to go
And soon my absence becomes a part

But she will learn to mend her heart
Blocking out the painful thought
And soon my absence becomes a part
Forgetting what should be forgot

Blocking out the painful thought
Moving on to better things
Forgetting what should be forgot
Finally spreading wide her fixed up wing

Moving on to better things
Sometimes now she will rejoice
Finally spreading her fixed up wing
She did forget the sound of her mother’s voice

Sometimes now she will rejoice
But other times things get sad
She did forget the sound of her mother’s voice
She is strong, just like her mom, and knows that this is just a fad

But other times things get sad
I see my girl and know she’ll grow
She is strong, just like her mom, and knows that this is just a fad
She will survive, so now I must go

I see my girl and know she’ll grow
I have seen the eternal footman hold my coat and snicker
She will survive, so now I must go
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker*
To nothing

Everyone
Everything
In this world
Can be raw material
For
Our writings
They are
Reusable
They are
Renewable
Which makes our
Life Revivable.

Can what is perceived or hypothesized
as conscious finality be conceived or experienced
in the present consciousness?
If not, then is conscious finality an illusion?

Can what is perceived or hypothesized
as the beginning of consciousness
be conceived or experienced in the present?
If not, is the beginning of consciousness an illusion?

Is there such a thing as conscious finality
at the cessation of perception?
Or instead of a cessation, is it a shift,
or a dissipation of consciousness
that we presently perceive
as a cessation of perception?

Is there such a thing as a beginning
at the start of perception?
Or is it a coalescence of consciousness
that we presently perceive as a beginning?

At which point,
wouldn't all beginnings and endings
be an illusion?

Or are they shifts in states of existence
outside the event horizon of our perception?

Me: Logbrain why do you continually abuse the work of other members

Logbrain: Simply because I am a superior being in the world of art

Me: I would suggest inferior would perhaps be a better word to describe you

Logbrain: Oh Oh Oh

Me: Surely that should read ** ** ** because most people laugh at your pathetic poetry.... No, pathetic attempts at poetry

Logbrain: PATHETIC!!! I, but but but Oh

Me: There we go again Logbrain,  Oh. Is that your favourite word?

Logbrain: It's the only one I can spell and anyway I can put more artistic expression into Oh than most people can write in 40 lines

Me: Oh Oh Oh how sad ** ** **

and thus the conversation went on

Forgiveness is the heady scented perfume from a flower when you crush her under foot
She knows you didn't mean it, she knows you didnt look

A few short hours ago she was there
Felt her precence there, smelt her perfume so sweet
Her sweetness had filled the air
She had made an entrance
Her presence was revealed

She's now battered bent and torn
But her memory still lingers on
As her bright colours start to fade
Her sweet perfume still fills the sunlit glade

Although she's long dead now and gone
She has also stayed alive
Because the seeds she had inside
Were scattered far and wide

Next spring she will again appear
To the delight of hummingbird and woodland bee
To stand in her full glory, for all the world to see

The devil came in depth of night
to stop the beat of Loh Chaenes heart
and thus he did the world deny
the art that from the pen did flow.

No more, no more
the gift of flowing verse
will we now have chance to read
we are now left here to grieve
the loss of his great mind

Loh Chaene gave us oh so much
with his great great artistic touch
the fluid flow as the words did grow
from the pen of this great man

Humility was in his soul
with oft encouragement
for young and old
who tried to pen the verse like him
but our poor works cant compare

And so the worlds become a better place
now that Loh Chaenes soul has gone
for the lesser man now can shine
as we pen both verse and rhyme
be as great as him perhaps

R.I.P Loh Chaene