I look toward the wondrous night sky

I look toward the wondrous night sky
and imagine what lies beyond.
Perhaps I’m not as far away as they say
maybe there’s no “there” there, after all.
Something outside hides the way,
prevents me from hearing the call…

I look toward the wondrous night sky
and imagine what lies beyond.
Hope is a baby crying for candy
while suckling on mother’s breast –
nothing more.
Fear and love war in my soul,
there is no victor,
but the battle takes a dreadful toll..

I look toward the wondrous night sky
and imagine what lies beyond.
Like an ant in a skyscraper’s basement
my perception is dim,
nothing more than a whim.
Faces pass in the crowd,
I smile, move on.
Onward, never resting, till journey’s end;
and friendless on that last day,
I die alone…

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“It is because the poor are too weak and afraid to lie and steal that Jesus called them blessed. That is why Christians despise the poor. In a capitalist democracy people are only worth what they are worth.” – Kurt Poleet, After I Died

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borrowed blue

What had this furious one won through mischievous deeds?
Solace.
A soliloquy of sorrow, borrowed blue, an intense void.
She appeared on a whim on a moonless night.
If
only
I’d
known
her.
Her hair, golden silk, shielding saddened eyes.
Trembling voice,
trembling hand.
It was just an act; no impending fate.
Once the tears and blood had dried
I tried to understand.
But by then, borrowed blue, it was much too late…

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“Reason is, and ought only to be the slave of the passions, and can never pretend to any other office than to serve and obey them.” – David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature