Pens and Pages

 What the hell have I been doing with 21 pairs of shoes? Too much for someone who keeps wearing the same pair of sandals or goes out wearing slippers. We are real hoarders. Understanding the value of money and being more mindful in my futuristic spends is the goal. I just realized while talking to a friend that I have reduced smoking thanks to the constant question that even though I can afford one pack what's the value of buying that pack? Does it help me in anyway except for a couple of minutes of pleasure and taste? The shopkeeper keeps trying to sell me a full pack and I keep pushing it back. My life and health has no meaning to them, of course. :-D But it need not be the same for me. I have 21 pairs of shoes but why? What for? Buy few things but make them memorable and usable. So many clothes and nothing to wear is a waste of time, space, energy and money. So many shoes and still picking up the comfortable slipper too is a waste of space and money. This helps me understand one...

The star that burned Into ashes today Was once the star Of his mother's death. And the same ball of fire, She had seen When he was born, She'd made a wish. And now that you pick The stardust lying On the cold hard ground, You call it special, You call it lucky. But he picks the same And calls it dirt. So, what's its name, In this ephemeral world, Where identity changes And names don't last?

I think of the words I would like to say Of love, of separation and your brief stay. I think of you as I walk the town On lonely evenings on the nearby lawn. You quietly follow me on a gentle morning, I turn around and you're no longer near. I write the words on a piece of paper. I write a poem; I write you a letter. You touch my hand and I cease to write, I turn around and I see you fade away. I think you're gone and I need to move on. I swallow the words, I bury it all. I tear the paper; I let you go While you stand there, mutely watching it all.