Attempting to make the memories,
of these moments last longer than the moments themselves,
but at the end of the day I’m just a loner with some poems,
because we all lose everyone close to us including ourselves,
what the Hell,
what the Heaven,
running out of Time and into Luck,
what an interesting combination,
they say,
necessity is the “mother of all invention”,
but I’m a ******* child running wild,
so I have no mother nor father at least not that I care to mention,
only have the pen when,
writing these verses constantly,
that and the accompaniment,
of the associated memories,
feel like all of this was meant for me,
which reminds me of a saying they have in India,
“You’re always where you’re supposed to be because that’s where you are.”,
I couldn’t have said something so complex any simpler,
simply speaking pause,
take a moment to spell the flowers,
simply speeding past,
sometimes it feels like I have more lifetimes than I do hours,
which I guess makes sense in a sense,
because time is only relative anyways,
and there’s no way something so omnipresent can be explained,
in a way that’s so linear in it’s emphasis,
anyways where was I with this,
this poem about nothing in particular,
well I guess I was as in am,
on a plane south of the equator,
passing over New Zealand,
also known as Ateorora,
still attempting to make sense of this,
of all the sounds and the colors,
still attempting to make the memories,
of these moments last longer than the moments themselves,
but at the end of the day I’m just a loner with some poems,
because we all lose everyone close to us including ourselves…
∆ LaLux ∆
Nelson, New Zealand
Jan 18th, 2019
