Philosophy Poetry Madness — Dust
It was a little sad when he brought the body to us
Even though the body was only of a cricket.
It was sadder when he started singing over the body
With shrill notes he learned from the cricket.
Saddest of all was when the boy spent the next few days
Building the casket out of miniature planks
Submerging the remains of his friend with three tears.
Unbearably liberating when he told us this fate is ours.
A human being-question chasing after both God and nothingness. The internet is a disaster, but our starlessness might teach us something. I welcome our constant experimenting with ourselves with open arms, for ultimately they are attempts of life at living and growing in life. My dwelling is in Key West, while the dwellings of my loves are Indiana, New Mexico, Texas, Massachusetts and Arizona. These spaces are nothing. Love abides and love embraces. View all posts by Richard Q
Love the Dust
The song is haunting in a powerful way: “With shrill notes he learned from the cricket.” Thank you, Richard.
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Thank you, Stacey. Even your comments on a piece continue to stimulate. The word haunting is encompassing here.
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