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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 18-June 14:15:30 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 17159
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Life
[time] => 2003-05-07 02:25:00
[hometext] => This began while contemplating the similarity between memories and dreams and, as happens most times, took off on it's own.
[bodytext] => Life ________________________________ An improbable combination of chemicals Whirling in an organic ocean of ooze Lock together in a form that repeats And so beginning of that we call 'life'. It grew through the endless ages Changing in some millions of ways Until the grand end product is The two of us, here in this time. Or perhaps, a wondrous creature somewhere Transformed the nothing into something Leaving his or her fingerprint behind Blessed with the divine spark called Life. Whatever the start the present is here Grown from chemical vats or miraculous touch The result still is the two of us here today Hidden within the teeming masses yet unique. Yes, this thing called life is too short for most Yet in it's brevity still far too long for others Leaving all in the end the same as before the beginning Having no regard for any of our virtues or villainies. The beginning is as unclear as the end is certain Darkness on either side of a brief, bright, precious now Filled with dreams of someday and memories of yesterday Which are much the same differing only in tense. In the end as the second darkness grows large ahead Only the faint electric sizzle of memory remains Dreams having passed ahead into the unknowable We dwell in brief contemplation holding them dear. Will the memories of our differences and distances Warm us as the cold darkness of the final ending looms Or seem so important against the backdrop of eternity That we held more dear convention than life's deepest call? Will we face the fading of our existence wishing in impotence We had reached out to take a hand we did not choose to take Or crossed the bridges we chose to burn before rather than behind Or will we be at peace having no vain regrets for deeds undone? In the growing dimness what will our last thoughts be? Frank Van Hoose May 6, 2003 [comments] => 1 [counter] => 179 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ravan [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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