Blow

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 "Since we are social animals, who depend on one another, 
  to show love and compassion is wise." 

  - Dalai Lama 




Blow




Somehow, it's
 no wonder we meet in hell,
 a very ignorant and obtuse one.
Blow.
Damned by powerful holy ones to get to this.
It can't be otherwise.

The movie of a life rolls back to the day I chose 
 to stay among shiny strangers.
More than 16 years later I see again
 a good movie that I missed:
I can choose, I leave.
A friendly happy home with the inspiration to meet 
 a friend calling from somewhere on this planet
 is coming up next.

Another one has died.
Blown away, roots in the air.

Got luckier, in a way, to be able to thank lucky stars
 for not having stormed in your rip-off doors
 kicking and punching monster-faces
 with vengeful bullet-words.
I can look at the farewell skies
 with more not asked-for stories 
 of sorrow and patience but little regret or remorse 
 and face the stars without a murder or broken nose 
 to wash down all through the nights and days left to live.

Still-alives, miracles are a wiser focus 
 than holy unholy damns and lies.
Praise or damnation, who cares?
Life is our precious miracle.


 

the old lady in love with a flower

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