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We are but
            grains of sand
in a universe
                       of boulders.
What if
I'm the sun and
you're the moon

What if
'never' is our soon
I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the pointsettas drip in the sun
I close the door.
Do you want to know, why I feel this way
Asking why is like asking why the world is this way
Because there are few things to be happy about
It’s hard to be happy by the simplest of things
I wonder why it’s hard to be happy and easy to be sad
I wonder why it’s we have to work so hard for so much time, to get a few seconds of happiness
You might as well not work at all it’ll save you some time
And yet, you still work in a world of despair
Just to have those few moments of happiness that will never last forever
And I’ve just realized that’s the only thing we live for
To work as hard as we can to grasp those few moments of happiness
If that’s all we do in life, what happens after life’s over
Do we still work or something else?
I wonder, I really do wonder why we do the things we do and how we feel about it
Because if this is what we live for, then what we die for should be worth dying for
What we live for is happiness, pleasure, and comfort
In a variety of ways what we live for can be done in either a good way or a bad one
The bad things we live for like revenge, corruption, and dying
But the things we live for the most happiness, joy, freedom, and love
That’s the only thing
That keeps us from destroying ourselves
Life is fragile and hard at the same time
Fragile because it can be crushed like a butterfly or shattered like a dream
Hard like ice, and has the carelessness of fire
All I say is true, and I have two questions for you
What would you do in the moment of truth?
And what do you think we live for?
Answer that for me
In pace with our various disciplines
We walk over cracking tile
Pretending it is
just more ice...

Black bees angle for the sharp taste
Of esoteric flowers,  their honey
Pungent...
As the smell of

midnight

Reading from borrowers
Their books bought
And paid for
I make my
Own
Analysis

And look no longer
For my forgotten

Dream.

Solaces from memory of things
Done badly, the light pierces
Down... silver light laces

The green.

The heart repairs itself
And then is fractured
Once again. ..
By looking
Too long
At the

Moon.

Towers of stone grow over living flesh
But then disolve in rot...
Never to mark

its

passing
.
.
.

Soul Survivor
2002
O wrote this years ago in an
Exercise of free form
Random thought
Poetry
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