Aug 10, 2022

Stood outside , wondering.

 My home town,has moved on from City that was at center of the revolution.

One that wanted to change leadership of our country,while exporting Arms to country we was at war with.

Political power and economy, traditional industry like Whaling,trade across the seas.

Fighting to end slave trade.

Badly bombed during World war.

blitzed by enemies, people's life's destroyed. Homes never rebuilt.

Hope never reignited.

No cathedral,no spiritual direction,no horizon. Emptiness in it present state.

Void that's remaining as second millennium envelopes my Old Town.

I stand outsider,detached, disconnected,

In grief and sorrow. 


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Some poetry from 2000 years ago to help me correct myself.

Since your mind will become a temple, do not leave any filth in it; do not leave in God’s house anything hateful to God. Let us be adorned a...

MAYBE WE WON`T MEET AGAIN

. . . she got a postcard in the mail
That just said Heaven,with a picture of the ocean and the beach
The simple words he wrote her
Said he loved her
How he'd hold her if his arms would reach
Wish you were here, wish you could see this place
Wish you were near,Wish I could touch your face
The weather's nice, it's paradise
It's summertime all year and there's some folks we know
They say, "Hello, "
I miss you so, wish you were here"