Guzlowski-Stepek: The Never-ending Poem

"and light dispels darkness." The darkness is darker than the light is light but the light is more powerful by far. Forget memories Leave ancestors and heritage to collectors of bones. All birds fade into autumn's foretaste and winter confirms the last rites on all that lives They say "never forget" they say "remember" and we do but we still commit the same mass grave crimes. Better to forget and do right than remember and repeat wrongs So what shall we do with this darkness? Abandon its stories Lose its lives Drop its memories like birds falling from their nests when the time has come for birds to fall from their nests. When summer is gone enjoy autumn when autumn passes accept death. Shake hands in peace and write poems about the fragrance that blesses now and celebrates the senses.

History and Darkness In the middle of the darkness  There is more darkness The memories we’ve forgotten The fathers we will never know The mothers who turn their backs And fade like the birds We saw last summer  Before this fall began. And what shall we do With this darkness? The stories forgotten The lives lost The memories That fade like the birds We saw last summer Before this fall began? What shall we do? We shall shake our heads And write poems about The fragments that sit In our hands.

we think we remember but we don't so we make up lies to take the place of memories We then cement the lies with embellished stories - horrors and dramas Meanwhile the truth floats somewhere in outer space bereft of its home - a place it no longer remembers And all that's left are words that no one buys and everything is lost in a haze of incessant distortion

  Never Forget You can’t find dawn at noonday It is with  the bricks and boards  you left behind  in that house  you no longer  remember.  All that’s left  are these words  that tell you nothing  of what you lost. 

there are monuments to be built statues to remove history to unlearn life to live deaths to accept there are crimes to forgive there are faults to forget monuments to blow up statues to be placed in bunkers and filled with wet concrete life to be lived life to be noticed the past to be put in its place

In the morning  when the sky  is still sleeping  I put on my shoes  and dream of walking Beside me  a cat meows  and wonders  why I’m so slow I remind her  that age is the distance  between two universes  that exist only in fables She asks me why  and reminds me  there is no pleasure  she doesn’t share  with me