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Never is always
Always, never
Sorrows are fading
Fading, never
Memories are overpowering
Overpowering, never
Love is begotten
Begotten, never
Fear is forgotten
Forgotten, never
Life is death
Death, never
Happiness is love
Love, never
Never is always
Always, never

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Surrender

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Surrender now!
O ye ghosts of passion
For if the night sways forth
Then there will be crimes
And then ballads written
And yearning will take place
Like white crystals along a hazy daze
Or a black sky
And lanterns made of pearls
And red silken blood
So who will the daybreak take
As its rabid hero
Who hath turned into a villain
And so
All the bonds were broken
Among the filthy rags
Which we call men
Thus—
O ghosts of wisdom
Come take their place
Those who were dark wisps
Of grey

Dipatches from Living

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What do you know about living–
The man who died a thousand suns ago
The dancing and the grinning
The lights of the dreamy, dreary shows
The illusions in the darkness,
The light within the foes
What do you know of living–
The dead man from ages ago
Smiling and jeering
Coughing and sneering
The drinks and the drugs
Drinking the wine of shadows
Eating the fruit of deceit
The lustful faces of ghosts
The greedy turfs of the libels
The man who knew of living–
Yes, he died long ago

The Art.

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How fanciful is it–that we are all artists. You and me both! While you color the figments of your imagination with the brush of your technique all over the canvas–you are an artist–maybe the best in your work. And me! I am the master at the art–the art which taught me how to stand on my feet–where the only brush i use is the brush of strength and the only canvas is of letting go. yes we are all artists. You and me both! While you create pictures–I have mastered the art of losing.

“For the art of losing isn’t hard to master!” Elizabeth Bishop