Thursday, November 3, 2016

Up Thinking Last Night Drunk on Victory's Homebrew

History is written
By the sands and the wind
By the rain and the stone
Washing, crushing, eroding away
        perhaps lies
But anything and everything it may

And we that reside in that history may find
The bones of worlds and the ashes of worms to play with
SpaceTime isn't kind, it's a thief
Stealing the letters from our lives
Taking the pictures from our dreams
Leaving us to barricade in our hearts
The love we have left after he's stolen away

And that is precisely how we inherit the world
Alone and at a loss
While history spreads all around as tree, brush, or forb
Or something to be hunted and/or spared
Or perhaps maze-like, the conceit of ancients,
While we are left without map or safety...

History spreads out SpaceTime
Like some maze or scorched place

And we run for salvation
And the answer is :
get up, Get going, Get on the gun
In reminiscing on my world war one work ethic
Or maybe:
Just do it! no fear, no tears...
In reminiscing on the world series the cubbies clutched
Or could answer as:
                  do what you need
then do what you can
and find yourself doing the impossible
In reminiscing upon the lovelands credo
Or could reply to me as:
fall down 7 times, get up 8
you are not your mistakes
seek, and you shall find
In reminiscing upon how simple people think I am

And in seven ways of remembering this
And seven ways of helping others to,
                  Do not despair!
                    You too write history with feathered pen...
                       Where there's a will there's a way

And that history surrounds us on every battlefield
And surrounds us at every dinner table
For we are survivors if nothing else
And Lords and Ladies in our own right
Whom can and will overcome travesty
And read the future as well as they.

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