An Athiest Dilemna
As I drove in my Ford Fiesta down North High
to the Montessori School I clean, a thought wandered,
this thought so calm and quiet, held like the delicacy
of a vase, this thought so dreadful and giant in the distance
above the salmon hue in the clouds, the color of,
that We only have sixty years left together.
Her and I, sixty. A number so small, so infintessimal,
so painful the thought that her Slovenian Face, the gorgeous
curve to her jaw, or the bow on which her lip curves into her smile,
the beauty or nature in her steps never crushing leaves and
never leaves without stepping thoughtfully or her rough heel from
walking barefoot, which adorn her feet in secrecy
Those hands which hold such depth, and wisedom
and love, never hidden and forever present in oil and ink,
that this beautiful creature will live only for the next sixty years.
A fear, a tremendous fear whelled up inside of my stomach
and I felt the fear behind my face, commanding my eyes
my mouth, my ideas and it was inescapable. What is sixty years?
What is sixty days?
It held me, that time, valuable time was spent doing things,
cleaning up other people's misplaced sense of importance,
I flush unflushed toilets for thirty minutes of my day.
I vacuum the left over paper clippings of children
who do know that I exist. I wait for the moment to see her,
there is an enormass wait to let her know, that I have not perished
into the unforgivable void of time, and that we will venture into
the abyss, together.
I drove to the school, and I had trouble getting started,
looking at the damned clock, each tick a moment
lost with someone dear to me, a second passes again
and my fury is only out weighed by an incredible sadness.
An hour went by as I sat and watched the rain,
wondering how many times I'll get to see her
before we both die.
157 views and not a single reply?
I thought this was really good. :)
I haven't used UG in a long time, and its pieces like this that remind you why its worth it. Would it be ironic to say I feel like you're beyond your years?
as ironic as a black fly in your chardonnay.
keep this shit coming matt. great stuff. still waiting on your book release.
also, congrats on that job. great to see someone actually be regularly paid for what they're passionate about.
I loved this, and it's good to see you writing about something so relatable and mundane; usually, it's something that your works sometimes lack. For what this is, I think it's really good. Also, it's good to see you post more often lately.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
I agree, this is really great. I will try to return to his piece.
This whole section seems very unpolished compared to the rest of it. The leaves-leaves didn't work for me. The barefoot followed by feet didn't work. It feels like you rushed it and the words aren't as velvety here as they are elsewhere. The thoughtfully/secrecy rhyme was a nice understated touch; but I think this needs to be cleaned up
Also, "beauty of nature" is what I think you were going for there?
The rest of this was a nice read though.
thank you thank you!
and thanks everyone else.
its down to earth and as I'm a new user one of the first great pieces I've read on this forum.
I hope to continue to be amazed by some of the things you all come up with :)
Now to go have a look for another post of this quality.
Well done sir, well done indeed.
Pretty much anything posted by anyone who commented on this is golden. I showed you some of Dylan's (#1 synth) work on soundcloud once.
As for the piece itself, I felt that some of the wording choices were slightly mundane, but that's the thing - it works so well, it flows and you can picture someone speaking this to themselves. It's real and I love it.
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