Tuesday, December 4, 2018


Still yet standing, waiting; here,
on the precipice of another dawning.
The rising awareness comes
covering over the past in
this present sense of place.

Being convinced of a cliff’s edge
is no proof of its strength or truth.
What times are these
when there is only the dust of demolition
escaping from the implosion of the present?

It is easy to be lost
when enveloped in the dark
unbreathable remnant of the past.
That explosion of the 1950’s birth canal
producing little more than a ravenous craving.

“It is good to die” I am told by them surviving the pressure wave;
“there is no more to add to the cloud of destruction loosed.
It will roll on long after you are gone”
Nothing known belongs to them aging into a future so bleak.
Their only need is for a past erased that they may go forward.

© M Durfee


  1. I'm enveloped in the dark every day, friend Mark … and lived with it for many years … and every day I receive the envelope I return it to sender … Good to her from you, friend … smiles … Gheezuzkriat, Missed you so much … Always, cat.

    1. … hear … I hate spelling mistakes … smiles … Love, cat.

  2. Strong lines, Mark, and a bit depressing. What mess we will leave behind. Maybe there will still be a few flowers that will bloom.


  3. Dynamic expression with a sad tone.

    Merry Christmas and a happy new year Mark. God bless.

  4. We are living Idiocracy! Hallo Mark, where have you been?


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