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Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head, what shall I do before going to bed? "There's not much day left; there's no time ...

Friday, September 2, 2011

Poem 322: Packing Boxes

Stuff is all around me
piled high in leaning towers
reaching beyond the horizon of view
bending
stretching high above the pinnacle of reach
asking me to give up
give away
recycle
and throw back to my past.
My past in forms of paper mache,
hand prints, 
noodle picture frame crafts 
and many other Things.
Stuff is piled around me
defining me 
begging me to remove my labels 
and delve into the unknown land of emptiness
nothingness
I am surrounded by a me of past
a me I long to gather up and hold on to
a me that future rejects as ancient
old
unwanted
spent
a worthless pile of crap
I am surrounded by this and love it
I loathe its mass, and despise its volume
but relish its memories and emotions
But, now it's time to say good-bye
to grow older once more
and move away from the past
keeping it only in mind
without memento 
and with the pain of moving forward 
with nothing
Good-bye childhood
college
my first love
Hello hollowed life waiting to be filled
I am surrounded by...


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