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  the television, the cell phones, email,  social networking,  

  all continuing to pour on without intermission

   

  talking has returned to electronic text, 

  where no one knows each other,

  and pictures worth a thousand are only pennies found on the only sidewalks that are walked by hitting next

   

  the world was once cold long ago, when we traveled over the snow and onto the plateau

  there we built a fire, came in from the cold, there is where made our homes

  would our hearts be as frozen and cold, if then we knew where this would go?

   

  we hunted for necessity, now the hunt is for pleasure 

  this time its not the animals, but its at the expense of another

  our once sisters, and brothers are dying unfulfilled, unsatisfied as we have consumed our own 

  in a vast bottomless hunger

   

  these cyclic devices, the vices

  the drugs, the alcohol, the lack of better judgment

  the violence, the lies of the powers that be

  all hide behind this tree 

  in the way 

  of progression

   

  love has tried to live, but now it isn't what it once was

  when the branch breaks, the only thing left is to take

   

  and snap as it did, as it was seen on the last day

  where it stood, it split in twain

  for a driver on his way

  Queen of Spades

   why can't you turn your crown over and dig?

  the cases of ownership, the static binds of relationship

  that you've carried with you everywhere you go, let it go

   

  take that space and find, too

  that all darkness

  has a memory of light

   

  find your aim by knowing your eyes can deceive

  and show untrue

  because things reflect and redirect, envelop and surround

  close your eyes, close your ears, let them, let you, let it all

  drown 

   

  remember how this place that we exist was even born

  by the hands of  father and mother,

  when all the universe itself was torn

   

  and in that moment, before all moments did ever pass

  in that place where there was nothing, not a single hand, drop, or idea to grasp

   

  long before, you had ever been mentioned, less alone, given any attention

  someone, somewhere, something out there, longed, premeditated or mistaken, for you to be here

   

  as ugly or misshapen, as misguided or complacent

  you're a child of the universe

   

  born and bred in chaos and blood

  of planets colliding and exploding, of comet dust

   

  your flesh has only grown in this life, but life has grown all along

  find your voice,

  find your will,

  find your work and with grace

  share with life's song

   

 
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Eric Paguio's Novels