Less Is More: .
Worth is measured
by a weight
of words.
.
Less unclutters
every audacious
value.
.
Suppositions
are equivocating
magpies.
.
In quick time
proficiency
gets lost.
.
A
.
With imaginative twists of: With imaginative twists of language and clever uses of opposites to show the paradoxes of life here in this earthly adventure, you give us a higher vision. In these "deep dimensions" of reckless destruction, waste and uncertainty, you invite us into a more enlightened worldview.
A wise and radiant bridge to much-needed change and clarity.
Believe it or not, though I: Believe it or not, though I know of the song I've probably only heard it a couple of times in my life. I did not get familiar enough with the lyrics to connect that. Nice play on the those lyrics, to say the least.
"Ex-Heavened" definitely sounds like a rock band name. How about "Exhaled From Heaven"? That's not too bad, either. I think that would make a good song title, if nothing else. Hmmm.
A Song Allusion: "I sold my heart to the junkman
and I'll never fall in love again."
Walk On The Wildside was a movie
I liked Jimmy Smith's version of
the theme song. Then enter
Star Trek 'Round Midnight".
.
I like: "The Ex-Heavened"
great name
for a rock group.
:D
You
Very nice play on words ;: Very nice play on words ; )
Yes, the lords let us peak into their homes and have a look, now. They no longer fear the pitchforks.
Only should be a last resort.: And they are, by no means, a resort.
My dad eventually ended up in one, against my mom's will. He was in long term hospital care at the VA, and the government forced him into a nursing home, using a loophole in a law passed during the early days of the sars-covi-2 outbreak. He suffered emmensely there and eventually passed away. We were not allowed to see him "due to the pandemic", and that made things so much worse. He was quite horribly abused, as became apparent when the funeral home tended to his body.
People need love and care that these type of establishes have no desire to provide. Maybe there are some good ones, somewhere. But, in all of my experience, I've never seen one that was good to the people living there. A person needs love and a lot of company, I think, to have a chance to overcome the realities of a nursing home.
Your poem is raw truth, to be felt. Seeing also that you wrote "Hospital Room" just prior, I have to ask if this is what you're going through, yourself? I hope not, and if you are I truly pray that someone lovingly will come through for you.