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Poetry Submissions for Week Of October 13, 2002
Topics For This Week:
FREE TOPIC
IN KIND
Death faces us all.
When he calls, we all answer.
And what then is our future?
Have we one, or are we done for sure,
all allure of life permanently passed?
The goodnesses we have lived,
in tandem with our sins,
cross over with us into eternity.
And now, a "what-if".
What if, in eternity, we relive our life experiences,
just as we have lived them in our earthly form?
In this ever-ever land of limbatory,
this laboratory of reliving,
will our sins return to haunt us,
tauntingly taking our goodnesses
into separation, while those sins
we have visited upon others
are then revisited upon US,
our sins being inflicted back upon us,
tit-for-tatwise?
What a crushing opposite of forgiveness
that would be!
Lenasjack@aol.com NA
J.W.O. 7October2002
................................
HINDSIGHT
©almezzina 10/7/02
There comes a could-have, should have day
when we may pause along our way
Just having gone through thick and thin
to think upon what might have been.
The opportunities, foregone.
The many roads much traveled on
each with their forks and choices made
and wondering what price was paid.
Time spent in hindsight is not wrong
provided it not last too long.
It’s better looking where we are
to see that we have traveled far.
No point in dwelling on the past;
for most of us the die’s been cast.
What each of us should strive to know
is where, from here, we plan to go.
................................
Conversation Over Coffee
Imagine a life
crashing
against a wall.
Dreams fall
smashing
scattering
into bits
of nothing.
Coffee?
The magic elixir
the fixer
of all
Your chair
is
empty.
The conversation is over.
©Vrd6/6/99
(Jenny)
................................
The Meddler's Creed
Don't fix it if it isn't broken.
Just leave well enough alone.
Don't mess with what's perfection.
Don't sit around and moan.
Don't tinker just to tinker.
Keep your mitts all to yourself,
Though your fingers are a-itching
To redo someone else's shelf.
Don't take to wearing placards
If you don't have a cause to pitch.
Don't go telling others stories
Or you'll be a son-of-a-snitch.
Don't preach your empty sermons.
You surely have a lot of gall.
Everyone now has you pegged
As a loud-mouth know-it-all.
Don't poke your nose in others' business,
Just looking for something to do.
Why not take a look in the mirror
And see the one who needs help is you?
C. 1996 MeriRiter
................................
BOTTOM LINE
Cut to the chase,
waste nothing.
What's the bottom line?
Time is money,
move along.
Louise Brogan
10/7/2
................................
FOCUS
The rarity of clarity:
A skewed review
of the situation
reveals a lack of focus,
fuzzy edges spreading inward,
oozing confusion.
Foolishness flirts
with disaster, unaware
of the consequences.
Lies and lessons blur.
The truth gets dirty.
Louise Brogan
10/13/2
................................
THE PRICE OF TRUST
Inherently a part of me, to believe, to trust, to depend
That what I'm told is really true and something I will defend.
An innate element of survival, of happiness,
just as I must breathe...
Unquestioning credibility and worthiness,
for me to care was to believe
That each soul would do as should have been taught,
never to deceive.
Ah such naivety, such ignorance and Pollyanna worth,
with no way to relieve
The hurt and sorrows and lack of mirth...
because abundant trusting my heart did bleed.
So head strong not to believe some hearts could be
so cunning and cruel and filled with greed
What price my trusting, lo these many years ...
now should I allow could fill me with doubt
But I will choose the high road to take
and intelligently work it out.
But it's mark it has left, now much older and wiser,
to myself I will keep
Much of what I used to share, and may not be thought of so sweet.
But for certain it will guide me not to repeat
what has transgressed before.
Though I will lose much by keeping my guard,
'tis they who betrayed me will lose more.
Kerry
10-12-02
(ADLEBLANC)
................................
Kerry Cunningham / adleblanc@aol.com