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mark-lecuonaPoems
Would if your past was lost, would it be a desert; barren hot and void, but cold at night; would it be painful regret for a life no longer recorded or would it still be the life you knew to be true? If if was all gone; all that you recorded of what you felt; would you still know to treat a bearded man on a chopper the same as a clean shaven man in an expensive suit? It’s who we are that matters; I can’t pretend I’m not one of you; it’s only how I relate and what I’ve learned is not about art, but instead, it was life itself What I could say is only in a way that reminds you; it’s a way to break the silence if only for a moment; what I lost is how I said it but not how I meant it There is no story of running underneath planes as they departed; there is no story of swimming beneath a churning prop; it is only the life that someone lost that we endure because we know who is next Is there no callousness that can be welcomed for those who must live with death and violence; what we spoke or painted is for those who try to live the right way while we watch those who must die in a world which we cannot comprehend
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
If The Book Was Never Read
Would if your past was lost, would it be a desert; barren hot and void, but cold at night; would it be painful regret for a life no longer recorded or would it still be the life you knew to be true? If if was all gone; all that you recorded of what you felt; would you still know to treat a bearded man on a chopper the same as a clean shaven man in an expensive suit? It’s who we are that matters; I can’t pretend I’m not one of you; it’s only how I relate and what I’ve learned is not about art, but instead, it was life itself What I could say is only in a way that reminds you; it’s a way to break the silence if only for a moment; what I lost is how I said it but not how I meant it There is no story of running underneath planes as they departed; there is no story of swimming beneath a churning prop; it is only the life that someone lost that we endure because we know who is next Is there no callousness that can be welcomed for those who must live with death and violence; what we spoke or painted is for those who try to live the right way while we watch those who must die in a world which we cannot comprehend
#life#art#whoweare
mark-lecuona
Written by
mark-lecuona
American
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
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