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Wrote these long time back (either in freshman year at university or more likely back in high school grade 12). Yes they do suck as most poems people post/write do but I liked them at the time and still have a fondness for them. Was cleaning through my HD when I came across them thought I'd post them for absolutely no reason:
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Life What is life? what but the intangible between birth and death?
Life From birth we are thrust forth screaming in terror. Little do I think life teaches us but re-articulations of that infant cry.
Life A river that sweeps on the drowning man, who in his terror frantically grabs at the flotsam and so appears to others to have mastered the flow, but no one masters the river. On it carries us. Childhood, Adolescence, Adulthood, Senility. Inexorably towards that all encompassing numbness.
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I caught a bee on the ship, just before we shipped. And stored it in a jar.
The white men hated that bee. Vicious, and Savage they thought them, much as they thought of me. That black bee and me. Not like the delicate bumblebee; and yet, like. And perhaps why they hated it, all the more. For bee it was. That they could not deny. And perhaps the likeness made them see, some of their mistake half across the sea.
I loved that bee with me, on my crazy trip across the sea. That black be and me, on the wind tossed sea.
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