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How pitiful and petty our small sad lives!
The best we can do is add a new name
To our histories, and nothing will change;
Just a word, a buddha with a thousand wives,
Some guy doing a dervish in the desert,
Some fiddler who resembles today’s emperor;
But for all the billions of the common us
Passing through millennia with our daily chores,
Like a type of penguin, but now with a cell phone-
Really, what is to be said that is not yet known?

So why exist if not for the sudden exultations,
When, for some unknowable reason, we
Are aware of a speck from that imagination
Of the miraculous and impossible reality
That we actually do see, touch, love, feel,
As if the universe has a personal communion
For each of us, alone, when what is real
Is the will to survive, not ever to be undone
In those rare encompassing moments
By the uncharted script of our laments?

Last few words: 
I'm aware Nero didn't actually play the fiddle, it was not invented, but love the image.
Editing stage: 


you write so well, I hesitate to question anything...but...

the last four lines (verses) are structured a little confusingly, in fact the whole second stanza is written as one sentence. On purpose or not that isn't problem.

..."alone, when what is real is the will to survive"... this phrase made me stumble and I never did get what it meant in the context it was placed. The piece reads fine to me and entirely comprehendible without it.

what am I missing?

over all, really good, though I have to admit that the first line, (needed as the expository "set up")
is something of a cliche, and a little over dramatic....but what the hey, that's what poets do!

p.s I'm sure.. well pretty sure... that my confusion is my mental glitch, not your writing skill, so.
no need to go into a lengthy explanation on my part...I'm used to living with confusion!

thank you and regards,


are always very appreciated. I think you overstate my craft, but it is much appreciated!

To me this site works best when I "publish" a poem that has been worked and reworked, but one just not sure about. I will consider the first line, I struggled with it. Then in the bathtub I was reading an anthology and came across "My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense" and I then figured if cliche is ok for Keats, maybe I can get away with it.

I avoided using the obvious term "magic moment", but of course what the poem is about. I did not plan the second stanza to be one sentence, but as it evolved I considered keeping it that way, I don't recall having written such a long sentence (10 lines!).

I guess what I mean by "alone" is the feeling that these magic moments seem very egocentric, as if i am the center of things trapped with my will to live and all the senses and intellect I bring to the party, and I feel "a parte" from everything and everybody. I assume it may feel the same to everyone who has that sudden flash of inspiration, that flash of astro tripping. (Could it be after 50 years the acid is still in me??? )

This is my most recent attempt, and sincere thanks for the time you put into the comments. I will be revisiting this poem I'm sure.

Before this I wrote something you might enjoy about Disco Sally. I will trust your opinion as to whether I should post it here. Feel free to do the same with works of your own. Thanks in advance!

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

I read your message and poem. I see no reason why it should not be posted here.
When I was a newcomer on Neopoet I laid low for quite awhile to get the lay of the land before feeling comfortable enough to do 'whatever' It is a democratic site, with only a few basic rules.

I know it is ostensibly a workshop, and every piece written by someone should not necessarily be posted. But let's get real; this (Neopoet) is leisure activity. No one comes here as a job, or a requirement for a degree.. I, myself, use it as a very convenient and efficient 'filing cabinet'
No one has reprimanded me as of yet for that, or any of my activities and choices.

I don't like 'shoulds'...just be a mensch

go wild,


I will then post it, but in a few days. I don't think any of us should post a poem more than just once or twice a week to give others a chance to be seen and have time to comment.
Thanks again, and I'd love to hear some of your music.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment
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