remnants
Death of a Rose the bone ash is being created,
borne on the scattered seedlings in stillness,
a freedom felt,
a voice to guide the strays,
certainty coveted,
shambling mounds of unearthly delight,
the exquisite smell of glass emptied,
building a corral after the refreshments have ended.
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danmoyer                             Knowledge is a means by which humans gain dominance over each otherUnfortunately, once you boast of your knowledge, people around you have it, so then you have to go get more.                                             Generally speaking, dominance is still the main (next to the basic survival instincts) theme in existence, quite possibly has been since the dawn of time.                                                                                                                           Where ever you are, my desire lies in wanting to be on the opposite side of the spectrum, to challenge both of us.                                                                                                                                                           Pondering existence without function will simply lead us back to ourselves, as art, science, and religion, are all the pursuit of the same thingThey just don’t get along very well.                                                                                                                                                                                                    Destruction is the only means of existence, save when we are creating, save when we are at peace with our surroundings.                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Violence solves the problems that we don’t really fix in the endOtherwise it just makes money                                                                                                                     Do you ever find yourself laughing at a joke that isn’t funny?                                                                                                                            I don’t.                                                                                                  050111
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dafremen Remnants
R. Dafremen
(for Public Worx)

"Last cup of coffee," he says
"Here's a toast to being in debt and growing old."

Outside the sound of traffic rising softly
Marks the time of the folks in line waiting to be bought and sold

He lifts his weary head to watch her sleeping
one more time
kisses her soft and turns to go

Opening her eyes she says
"I love you baby come home soon."
He says "I love you too" then grabs his coat
Steps into the cold

Then he hits the road

The phone is ringing in the kitchen
She lets it go, and hopes they'll go away

Probably someone trying to sell her something
Or perhaps the ghost of those she owes
but can't afford to pay

Persistence pays and so they keep on calling
She gives in picks it up and takes the bait

A voice says "Hey you
so glad you're home how are you?"
She says "Hey sis it's been rough but I'll be ok."

Still she's so afraid.

Between the silence
the quiet madness of our ways

These scattered pieces
Are sometimes all that keeps us sane

These are the remnants that remain
The tattered remnants that remain

Wiping his eyes he holds her hand and whispers
"Mom I love you so much, how are you gettin' on?"

Through the tubes stuck in her face she weakly smiles
and tries to hide
The fact that she knows her time here isn't long

She'd seen his face in a photograph when he was younger
Smiling eyes that always carried her along

But now the tears come as he cried fell bittersweet upon her arm
'til she thought "Lord...won't you take me home?"

And then she was gone.

Such tender moments
Stand out among these empty days

These scattered pieces
That come and go and keep us sane

These are the remnants that remain
The tattered remnants that remain

Out in the darkness
Stumbling blindly through the pain

These scattered pieces
These points of light along the way

They're sometimes all that keeps us sane
These tattered remnants that remain

These tattered remnants that remain

They're sometimes all that keep us sane
These tattered remnants that remain

These are the remnants that remain
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what's it to you?
who go
blather
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