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Matt Kukulski Mar 2010
This was a Holy Moment.
Every moment we have is holy,
But this one was different.
Every moment begs of us to see it,
To see its glory, but this one,
This one screams.
This one cries out for life
In all its sentiments.
No painter could paint it,
No singer could sing it,
And even this poem
Cannot do it justice.
It was a Moment full of awe and power;
Such power that one could not help but be drawn in.

This was a Holy Moment,
And it was felt.
The loss of a loved one
I could not relate.
Hard to write
Are the intangible Moments we have.
Love, fear, joy, and loss
All have many meanings.
I tried to compare,
But I could not compare.
I tried to imagine,
But I did not have the capacity.
I knew not this loss that was felt,
But its presence was unmistakable.


This was a Holy Moment,
And it crept up into each of us.
It ate at our insides, trying to defeat us.
It pulled and pulled at me,
Trying to bring me to the depths of darkness.
It numbed the body.
I could not move, I could not think.
I could only feel the Moment
And it was terrible.
My mind wanted to speak, but couldn’t.
I should have said something.
But what could I have said?
There is nothing for me to say.
Any words would be just merely words.
No words could have freed us of that Moment.
No words could bring back life.
No words could make it “alright”,
For alright was another Moment;
Another Moment far away from this one,
A Moment not to be thought about,
Because in this Moment we were.

This was a Holy Moment,
And I was there.
I was there and we were all there,
There in that Moment.
One of us was more than hurt,
And we knew its true intensity
Was something far out of reach,
Far from our experience.
Still, we shared this Moment.
We shared it from start to end,
Even though it had no end.
Time could not grasp this Moment;
It would not dare.
Gathered in that Moment,
We were bonded by the darkness.
While she was alone in her thoughts,
Our thoughts were with her.

This was a Holy Moment,
And it was significant.
It had something to say.
Life has many Moments,
Each with something to offer,
To show, to tell, to teach.
For it is in our lowest Moments
That we can learn the most.
It is in these Moments,
That we learn to seize the day.

This was a Holy Moment,
Opposing another Moment.
It is the price we pay
For eating the fruit,
But it was worth it.
I accept these Moments
And all other Moments.
May we grow from them
And continue on our journey,
For this was but a Moment.

This was a Holy Moment.
My friend lost someone close. The news was hard to take.
Matt Kukulski Mar 2010
My eyes wander the land before me,
Mind new and refreshed from years of slumber.
From above the land, I’m able to see
Rows of flowers too many to number

Under the shelter of infectious gloom,
Crawling low to ground not knowing they hide.
Nature’s avenging shadow will bring doom;
Lost recurring message of those who’ve died.

I come down to their familiar land,
And with a closer look inspect each one.
White they are clean as they lie in my hand.
Dark red stripes appear untouched by the Sun.

Some stripes slim and slender, yet some were wide.
Each unique together always the same,
Few rise tall to sky and refuse to hide.
They reach for more and shall never be tame.

Roots dug deep in ground hold something profound,
With not many reaching out to the rest.
From Nowhere there comes an advancing sound
Of power and way I truly detest.

‘Twas perpetual sound of upright men.
Evermore this human crowd leads forth life,
And rage overcame me the moment when
They cut down the free plants with scathing knife.

It is a sight I couldn’t stand to see.
How could people do something clearly low?
Emotion I burst out, “Don’t cut down thee!”
“Never, no! For we mustn’t let them grow.”

Enraged but captivated I observe
The way they care for the other flowers.
Down to their foundation stems bend and curve,
While forth comes misled creative powers.

The split men search left and right to please all,
And they do it with a chemical spray.
Destroys inside; leaves bitter taste of gall,
But gives the plant an outer shining ray.

It takes over. Deluded roots became
Distorted as all of nature weeps woe.
Emotion I burst out, “You are to blame!”
“Never, no! For we mustn’t let them grow.”

The plants yearn for chemicals and justice;
Can’t have both what men have done they don’t know.
Emotion I burst out, “You must stop this!”
“Never, no! For we mustn’t let them grow.”

The light and glimmer are nothing but fake.
The ruin within I could not ignore.
The lives of these plants they surely do take.
Turn away I want to see it no more.

I walk their reverse, way out of the dark.
Forever be their ways I cannot change,
But can only hope to leave minute mark;
The world behind out of visual range.

Walking I consider ways I condone.
Ideas bring my wits to this world’s edge.
Break from emotion otherwise alone.
Shatter the shackles I forever pledge.

Sanity saved by a radiant light,
Distant, coming open away from shade.
Relieved, I find a plant with immense height.
Simple but improved beauty gods have made.

Plain and yellow, innocent as a child.
Unrestrained from scornful stripes, I believe
This vita with temper and anger mild
Will prove I discovered genuine Eve.

Below lay weeds confining the bold soul,
Encompassing, trying to overtake,
But in its structure you can find no hole,
And its roots and foundations cannot break.

Wanting its inner smile to be evermore
I search myself for water deep inside,
And give it to the pure light I adore.
Earning affection and trust I confide.

When thirsty I’m there with water to drink,
Guiding with assent and comforting hand,
While flower and its hope never will shrink.
It must accept my gifts and understand.

Show the world to my prayers and wishes solved
As it grows in my presence, life of joy.
I’m pleased and jubilant to be involved
With this light that weeds can’t hide or destroy.

For the first time it holds someone that cares.
Gave it natural and beautiful rise.
Life and life plentiful nothing compares.
Desire turns out to be more than surprise.

The men come by, couldn’t handle the sun.
They finally take note my plant’s great height.
What sinful and wrong act could I have done?
The look on their faces is that of fright.

With delight I smile at their ways amiss,
And look deep into the eyes of my foe.
Emotion they burst out, “You must stop this!”
“Never, no! For I must let this life grow!”
Matt Kukulski Mar 2010
Sitting; thinking over my self-made dread.
Could I aid those before I save my head?
Rays of serenity draw eyes from concern.
Thought retracts,
While my present youth attracts
To something that could heal my burn,
And the cold in my heart subtracts.

This figure so lax sunk deep in grass,
With a book in hand letting time pass.
Legs crossed like the butterflies near;
A good nest
For the tired book to rest.
And in the reader’s face: cheer
At what full words suggest.

This still child now visibly grown,
Frees me of want; nothing to own,
Except for my subconscious control.
Contradicting;
My two sides conflicting,
As I long to possess the pure whole,
And I notice my view is restricting.

This riddle once again self-made,
As I look at her, begins to fade.
The sun shines down from the sky.
What a sight!
Turn to me blue eyes bright;
A moment no person can ever buy,
And now in mind everything alright.

This answer leads to no longer my,
For in that we will all surely die,
But let it be; we have the world to share.
There sitting,
Pairs of liberal eyes committing.
Never again possession; now fully aware,
While others urge for everything unremitting.
They're sitting.

— The End —