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#musingsoveralondonfoglatte
I can't help but wonder what you will remember of me. That's every man's fate, isn't it? To become a scrap of detail that snags or escapes a stranger's memory, Stuck in a grate in the floor where it fluttered, discarded, Or lodged in a permanent frame, dusted off every so often to be a reference point or to be a defining moment. It isn't up to us how we are remembered - - what is a rainbow to the blind but a refreshing mist on the skin? And that's why we obsess: we have no control, hard as we try, contour, conceal, and coordinate. And that never stops us from trying. But for a moment, consider this superpower that others will never have: You can remember them. You can't escape yourself, but you can remember them. Will you remember them kindly? Will distaste be tattooed in your mind? The things that are going to happen will happen. And we can act according to how we want to be remembered. But we cannot change it. But our remembrance cannot be changed either. It's a little spiteful optimism, isn't it?
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Aug 22, 2022
Aug 22, 2022 at 9:34 PM UTC
The Peacock's Soliloquy
The biggest struggle I have with the concept Of death Is that one day I’ll die And leave some Piece of writing unfinished.
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Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
A Writer’s Fear
In loving memory of Kurtz's last disciple: Welcome to the circus, A three-ringed show in The center of the dark. In our multifoliate arrogance, We seek out a familiar face And forget to turn on the light. Fumbling by touch, Grasping at straws, When faced with the truth, We crave the lie instead. Each and every one of us The architects of our own catastrophe.
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Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
Inelegant Hearts
The kingdom rejoices The prince has found A maiden to marry. But she wasn’t the first. We all know the story About the innocent Young girl the prince Fell in love with and He is a hero because She is telling the story. She doesn’t know better. He loved another, you see, And she who would have been queen Gets shuffled off to somewhere quiet. Told to never tell And left to obscurity. That was their mistake. Princes are born, Born into privilege Born into power Born into position But queens are made. Made from steel Made from secrets Made from smoldering ashes. They are royalty of themselves In whatever domain And they rule. The point of this tale is: The kingdom threw away a princess But they made a queen. Long may she reign.
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Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
She Who Would Have Been Queen
Once upon a time, I knocked on the gates Of paradise and asked for a secret. Saint Peter said to me, "Live boldly, youngling. Evening stretches on Longer than the daylight." Awake again, I smiled Because I had indeed Been given a secret. But it wasn't what old Saint Pete had told me. The secret was That I already knew And I smiled anyway.
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC
Saint Peter's Wisdom
I watch the sun and long for the moon, Endure the night and crave the dawn. Their eyes were watching God, With their minds upon themselves. Angels newly fallen from heaven, Climbing onto a shelf as ornaments. We scream for progress in one breath, Then lament the past with the next. Give me your burden and your blame So I can pass it along to someone else. Give a man a fish to feed him for a day, Watch him steal one tomorrow morning. Go with the flow, take the easier road. Get what you want in the moment, but Never satisfied for longer than a heartbeat. Take no risks-life under an outcropping As wilder spirits dance in the rain.
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Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
Thesis/Antithesis
She held a hurricane inside her heart. And yet, They wondered why it rained.
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Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 10:31 PM UTC
Mere Intuition