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 Jan 2016 AJ
Mike Essig
Big issues fade in the face of beauty.

Seat a great philosopher, mathematician,
physicist, and theologian at a table.

Have a lovely, perfect 18-year-old girl
gracefully approach to take their orders.

I can tell you exactly what they are not thinking.

Big issues fade in the face of beauty.*

  ~mce
 Jan 2016 AJ
Walter W Hoelbling
the real question is not
    whether god exists
but whether you believe in one
no matter which denomination

do you believe
    that there is someone
    who commands your fate
    created everything
    makes earth move and the universe
    protects the good and punishes the bad
    and will reward you after death
        according to the life you led
    with everlasting bliss
         or fiery hell eternal

or do you rather think
    that it is our responsibility alone
    to live in peace  
         not war
    protect all life
        not only our own
    and not pretend
        that hunger  sickness
        lack of water and clean air
       are simply  natural  

if you are a believer
     remember all religions
     respect all forms of life

if you are prone to think it's humans' obligation
     remember those who do believe
     may also strive  to do their best

the common goal of all
should be the recognition
     that whatsoever god
     may have created us
     would not have wished
     for our abolition
 Jan 2016 AJ
TinyATuin
Red Tent
 Jan 2016 AJ
TinyATuin
Flowers sprouted from my body
and their thorns
dug into me
leaving storms
on my mind
and red petals lined
by my thighs
 Dec 2015 AJ
Mike Essig
Not mine, but the best poem about "new" that I know of.

Poetry
By
Mary Oliver

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
*determined to save
the only life you could save.
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