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carnage splendour

when Neopoet
went offline
and then I followed
it slowly to know
that all the works
were lost
I felt and still do
feel a careful desperate

and an extraction of truth
that nothing is ever
truly certian in the world

I am glad to be back
that Neopoet is here

thank you


A freind reminded me of the poets here
so I came home

author comment

Indeed you have,Steven and with splendor....


and the place suffered a hitch I remember thinking I should save
my works but I write not to save not to hold it all like that
rather its like a chalkboard in my view Then when it crashed
I was severly shocked and I laughed and was lost at all
the mortality of work gone it was an exercise in talent
not futility of man for even man and his machines are
mortal But the spirit of talent reachs and the echo of all the
works still ring in the reading and memory of those sharing
here on this free site And some have returned and continue
to write A city can be devoured by the elements books
can be burned but a poets heart as long as the gift and life
surges from within and without shall continue to be an
outlet of offerings and I shall write and add my poetry
without predjudice to the infallible inevitibility of existance
and that is the joy of living in the Now

author comment

And as a life begins to fade we look for ways to be remembered. Our immortality, my good friend, is not the poetry we write; it is the good that we do.

with respect and admiration,


Ive always said its actions not works that exist in the splendour
Why I love reading about Poets sometimes rather then just
their poetry Loved reviled and otherwise I like people
and their faults Im not fond of bullies or idiots but I do love
poets and most Ive found have troubled but stolid hearts
when it comes to creativity over bullshit Thank You Joe
and nice to hear from you my dear freind!

author comment

Steven, no heart, no poetry. Read this. I deleted it from this site: I am not a popular poet here, but , in the scheme of things, fuck it !

What do you say to a dying man ?

what do you say to a dying man
to cleanse his heart
what truth to lift the fear
from a soul birthing into oblivion

does he know things
we don’t know
a special melody that makes him sing
in a different way
a magic that carries him through the day

Only the eyes of a dying man
see what is in his heart
his words fall meaningless
for fear to whisper Death
in another’s ear

What do you say to a dying man
Nothing you would not say to any other
Nothing he does not already know

I remember the crush in the subway commuter car
the coffee shops in downtown Bay Street Toronto
sitting sober in bars sipping cola or hitchiking
waiting for that right person to stop and converse
always the karma leading God stepping in
the fate tapestry weaving

I was shovelling snow in a camp one winter
and was resting at dusk cold and beautiful
the lake frozen the moon rising and heard
the slow calamity of a great tree falling
nearby A tree does fall in the forest and
people do hear it I heard it
beautiful in its process

how many people I have talked to today
whom are dead tommorrow
even the young step daughter
four young freinds One her bestie
killed in auto crashs and vehicular
fatalities all under eighteen
one was a young boy whom was going
to come down and spend time with
her the next day

Popularity.. I remain true to what I want
to believe in ideals creative flow
I have stood up many times against
many things while others joined and
melded I dont meld well

I have tempted death many times
or made a run at it and am still
here I have known you An intelligent
poet writing of the examinations of
transitions emotions feelings old hurts
the old battles the last sunsets
many dont look at the sun they miss
all that they miss the moment to break
staying to the course in that focus

I break all the time I see things
I write I read I listen

oh the humanity!!! (sometimes)
and sometimes great beauty

thank You for writing me Geremia You are a great freind!

author comment
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