...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...

... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ...
A Journal of Sorts




"we write to taste life twice

 in the moment and in retrospection."



~ ? ~






I read these words...

"I LIVE SURROUNDED BY BOOKS, CDS, COMPUTERS, ANIMALS, TREES & COLORS"

and I mourned...

for I used to live in such a world, surrounded by so much creativity and life... the best of it is gone, entrusted to others who either hid or sold or destroyed the most valued things, living organics and arts, that I found or created or received as gifts along the way through this life... yes, it has been years... many years, in some cases... yes, I still mourn...

that someone, the one who wrote the words, might understand the love of life and creativity I once knew gives me hope that the betrayers and careless people I've known are not representative of the human race... that someone might understand the loss and the path to overcome such tragedies is the hope that leads me to continue searching and believing in my dreams... that someone might share the dreams and give unconditional trust and creativity the rebirth it deserves in actualized physical spaces keeps me alive...

sweet memories
moments of love
shared in the comfort
flowers know of
suddenly shattered
a reign of cruelties
nothing else mattered
everything bleeds
lost in apathy
promises broken
bring hope to it's knees
but still I am standing
on
sweet memories

sweet memories
recorded in song
in mixings of music
and words simple and strong
I miss the recordings
and mourn the tragedies
and pity the people
who took them from me
but nothing can take
the
sweet memories

sweet memories
written in prose
and rhymes by my hand
and authors I love
the walls were alive
with music and text
when cost was no object
more art would be next
immersed in creation
now all has burned down
a forest without trees
but nothing can take
the
sweet memories

come walk for a while
along ancient trails
revisit the muses
the laughter and wails
the songs of the poets
the dreams singers sing
the instruments tell us
what magic we bring
dare thought to remember
dare heart to re-feel
dare share re-creation
like one final meal
and inspire the rebirth
of the child inside
the trees may be gone
but the forest never died

sweet memories
bring it all back alive
in sweet memories
everything survives
the prized recordings
the turn-weathered leaves
the heart is still beating
I still see the trees
reborn in our sharing
and love is uniting
the birds and the bees
for nothing can take the
sweet memories

no nothing can take
the
sweet memories


ah


and the stuff, most of it money can replace, so that's where I am now most of the time... earning money, saving it, and eventually I shall replace the stuff that matters most that can be replaced... the musical recordings that can be found... the literature, or at least copies, that are available... all is not lost, just the most dear treasures that had little material value, but represented the most precious moments of this life... pity those who do not care, for they languish in their own despair, consumed by their own affair, the create their own hellish lair and into it they disappear...

the time of mourning continues
and the search for one who understands
the healing process
and who will share




STUFF CURRENTLY STIMULATING (OR BORING) THE SENSES
visuals
audios
literata
edibles
gardens
oddends
linkage
          work,
work, local radio
At The Core   by Larry Niven
pirouettes
wantlist
READ DISCLAIMER    loose ends and sour grapes
nocturna, personal, revisted

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