Showing posts with label dust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dust. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Selfishness . . .



Selfishness sometimes seems
My strongest character trait
Service to the 'master'
Leaves all other duties in the dust


Up To Here

©2018 Raymond M. Jozwiak



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Thursday, December 13, 2012

Dust. . .

. . . and gas (yes, water too). . . that's what they're made of. . .
. . . that come once a year, quite a show of fireworks when you're there to see them. . . shooting stars fantastically glow. . . all too soon, no one can say where they are or gone to . . . back on earth, we average reside. . . most of us will never know such adoration. . . so I go my ordinary way, do my job and feed my kids in this world and wonder. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . why all the fascination?

Fabulous, they'll take your breath away. . . they will dazzle with their style and their savoir faire. . .  improvise, they make their own rules. . . all the cattle follow close behind from the pasture. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . why all the fascination?

Why couldn't I be one among these many millions?. . .why can't someone see my astrological worth?. . . what causes the sea of heavenly bodies to glow like they do; show off so brightly for me and you? . . . sooner or later they burn themselves out but oh, so beautifully. . . beautifully.

Meteors have nothing to fear. . . from their distant firmament, they shine for the masses. . . safe above, removed from earthly life, from uncertainty that lines the cloth of our mortal existence. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . dust and gas, that's what they're made of. . . why all the fascination?


Meteors
from For The Ride
© 2008 Raymond M. Jozwiak





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Sunday, May 1, 2011

Meteors. . .

. . . that come once a year, quite a show of fireworks when you're there to see them. Shooting stars fantastically glow. All too soon, no one can say where they are or gone to. Back on earth, we average reside. Most of us will never know such adoration. So I go my ordinary way, do my job and feed my kids in this world and wonder. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Why all the fascination?

Fabulous, they'll take your breath away. They will dazzle with their style and their savoire faire. Improvise, they make their own rules. All the cattle follow close behind from the pasture. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Why all the fascination?

Why couldn't I be one among these many millions? Why can't someone see my astrological worth? What causes the sea of heavenly bodies to glow like they do; show off so brightly for me and you? Sooner or later they burn themselves out but oh, so beautifully. Beautifully.

Meteors have nothing to fear. From their distant firmament, they shine for the masses. Safe above, removed from earthly life, from uncertainty that lines the cloth of our mortal existence. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Dust and gas, that's what they're made of. Why all the fascination?


© 2008 Raymond M. Jozwiak



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