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The Dead Whom We Honor (Poem)
those who came before us
whoever we are, whoever they be
do they mourn the current destruction
or rejoice in the smaller joys
do they care, the ancestors, the revered ones
the sainted and the destroyers
they who change roles depending on view
will the little happinesses that anchor our lives be enough
and if we call out in desperation
these having ceased to hold, will they answer
all their wrath, all their wisdom
what becomes of them unheard
the forgotten gods and the abandoned elders
now crumbled remnants in the dirt
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Receptacle (Poem)
in order to contain the day
this day, the only day we have
build it carefully around each breath
each heartbeat each blink of the eye
the respiratory exchange the cadenced pulse
the pupillary response to light
these indicatory of physical life the structured body
the corporeal manifest all for naught
unless we construct with intent
know where we begin and end
always always let both these be
compassion and wisdom
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If Memory (Poem)
can remake the past
change concrete actions so
turn emotions inside out
why fear what waits ahead
time before and after a Mobius strip
twisting so that it returns to now
always now, the present moment
the only ground where we can stand
itself the firmest mirage, illusory
the moon reflected in a pond
