This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO


Elton & Pavarotti - Live Like Horses

Why live? Why such appetite if we only aspire to its demise; this odd sphere's protracted pining which hunger itself appears to not have any use for. The insides of a child, the spattered family, the fallen soldier, all lying on the barren street engulfed in livings final drink understand more than this. This odd yearning for what seems to be discarded so readily without remorse or as much as a blink of an eye; the gasp for breath at our birth seems slightly strange given our anorexic affection toward mankind. Our craving for such a quickening demise only to be buried with the presumptive wish of tomorrow’s lustrous hue, is madness! We’ve no more sense than this? Have we prodded enough of our heart’s living that it’s time to explore beyond it into the unknowable?

Yes! Why can’t we live like horses; blast the shackled raven and salvage the senses; break free the walls and live unbridled; our experiment’s incomplete and our living needs know this. Our end needn’t be useless, daunting, or fixated of putting death on parade with such a goddamned elaborate superiority! There is no use in it, no use in this world for such murderous babbling nuisance and uncharitable war and ghastly human famine! Men talk of evil and good as if there were a miniscule speck of a tangible iota of a difference between themselves and those they smirk upon with nose skyward...

Is it any surprise that we should find ourselves here and that from its inception the congregation of man with its splendid philosophy and work and music and laughter and freedom was merely conduit for the advent of living’s death?

© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

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