The Death of Poetry

Letting go of someone is one of the hardest things in life. Some say that letting go some one dead is better thatn letting go of someone still breathing. Morbid the thought maybe, but I have to agree.

Here is a poem that I think is a conflict between letting go and remembering. So much is the conflict that the poem actually morphed into some sort of gothic horror. Well it happens all the time when you consider who the author is. Edgar Allan Poem. The master of classical horror.

I'd say... you can let go of anyone but it would be a sin to stop remembering. Anything can live forever when remembered.

Do you still remember the moment when you first discovered Squidoo? To join or not join... wasn't that the question? Do you remember the emotions you had while contemplating the advantages or perhaps the disadvantages should you have decided to join the squid community?

Did you think that was just emotion? I doubt it. Perhaps it was poetry. Perhaps it was your soul trying to be heard. Doubt, maybe. What was your first thought? Dollar signs? Charity? Friends? Will you be able to express that moment in 5 lines. Nope? Poetry can.

Close you eyes when you play the video below and think of the moment you were undecided to join Squidoo. I hope it has made all the difference.

How many times in life have you thought of giving up. In my lifetime of almost three decades, I lost count of moments when I just wanted to stop, give up and just disappear. But I also lost count of the times when I just pushed and shoved... advancing as conditions permit... never retreating... always learning.

A few years back I thought of ending everything... my soul was crushed... my spirit was shattered. I thought it unfair that God made man to endure such hurt and pain... until I learned of the cross others carried. I was a fool. So I got up and moved on. But burned into my heart was this - "There is no pain greater than that of a broken heart".

My heart is still broken. But such is the poetry of life. Life goes on.

We live in a world of never ending change. Light. Dark. Light again. Nothing remains the same. for this very reason all good things must end whether we like or not.

Today we enjoy the finer things offered by Squidoo. As sure as night turns to day Squidoo will fall somewhere along the way. Let us hope not in the next hundred years. :-) HubPages. The lesser Zimbio, Mahalo, Oondi, Spongefish, Gather, LaunchTags, Tumblr... But Hell, nothing to worry yet... we eat HUBS for breakfast. Right? Because such is the poetry of life.


Close your eyes and feel the words of the next poem humble your soul.

I never stopped dreaming. Perhaps I never will. I believe that when a man stops and becomes content with what he has THAT's where he stops living. I intend to live life to the fullest. And if there is an afterlife... I intend to live that to the fullest too.

A fiend asked me what my dream is. I told him, "I can't I'm living it right now". Was. I woked up from that wonderful dream into a nightmare. There are still many dreams to live. New horizons to cross. New rainbows to slide on. New smells. New places. New lenses to write. The poetry never stops. Do you stop at your 50th lens? You'd be fool to do so.

Life is all about discovery. And I intend to discover as much as I can.