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Alaskan Snows Revisited

It’s like  
people who move to Alaska: Moving  
 
there for a new start.
Moving there to heal a broken heart.
 
Moving there  
to pursue their art.
 
A never ending revelation in a vista of vastness.
 
Face of nature being embraced by nature.
 
The chance to study the geometry of harmony and happiness.
 
*   *   *
 
Contrast this  
to the mad bomber who sends bombs to mail boxes  
from their Alaskan cabin (I know that happened in Montana but you know what I mean)
 
*   *   *
 
There is a difference in the intents  
of these endeavors.
 
I remember when I came to this website.
I used to be such a sweet-sweet thing, til  
they got a hold of me.  But seriously, I  
think I am perhaps a rare case, being that  
I was not on a fucking computer for a damn  
decade: The damn decade.
 
So, the perspective is unique.  
 
Maybe you look at me and say: That there  
individual has issues.  You're damn right I  
have fucking issues.  (haha).
 
I know I have issues because others have  
had issues, the same fucking issues.
 
People using anonymity to hurt people.
 
Let me just add to that: On a POETRY site.
 
(That’s why the fuck I almost lost my belief in humanity…
 
If poets are hurting other poets,
what the fuck is everyone else going to do to themselves and others.?.)
 
A serious question.
 
We are imploding as a society.
 
But yes, I do have issues.
 
I have an issue with people who use online anonymity to hurt others.
 
This is a far reaching act.
 
Hurt people hurt people.
 
When someone hurts someone they maybe make a hurting machine,
aside from the neg karma.
 
But with poetry.
 
I think all of this is massively amplified.
 
People are sharing their heart and souls with one another.
 
Not only does that take massive courage, it also opens a person up, psychically.
 
And this opens one up to healing, but also to the potential for harm.
 
I think a poet or poetess, forsaken, can become a whole sky of dark stars.
 
Think of the paradoxical potential to this scenario, one where poets  
actually come together, be some kind of light in this fucked up world.
 
Each poet a sky of stars.
 
Poets becoming the fabric of an endless sky of stars.
 
Maybe while the world burns.
 
We could be the ones to burn the most beautiful.
 
On the other hand, I also feel one can function, even in such an environment,
with the right attitude.
 
And you could say: One must adapt or be eliminated.
 
For me, this is complex.
 
But ultimately, I suppose it falls on the individual, to make a determination.
 
I will harm none.
 
How hard is that, when you, yourself, feel you are being attacked.
 
And attacked when you are doing your art.
 
For me, I realize, I have an attitude: Shoot first ask questions later.
 
That is extremely ill advised and I must modify myself.
 
I mean, such a stance CAN be good in certain circumstances.
 
But always lead with wisdom.
 
Another thing that occurs to me, is: I should talk more when I have an issue.
 
This, to me, sometimes/most times seems ridiculous.
 
How am I supposed to talk to the motherfucker who just did some shit?
 
Wasn’t that enough communication?  Their behavior?
 
But there again.
 
I consider the venue.  
 
A poetry site.
 
I really do think the world of people who have the guts to write.
 
It aint easy.
 
Nothing is easy in this time period.
 
That which is associated with the writing, being amplified.
Written by Cipher_O (WarlordoftheWrittenWord)
Published
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