Poems

Original Poetry by Warren Gaston

This Is It

This is it. This is it. This is it. Now, not forever. This is it. The next 'it' will arrive post- haste.  t  

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Waste Speech

vapid chatter in- consequential                                     mutter tongue- tied stammer un- managed lips slip slough syllables into sloppy silence      

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Blue Sun

Careless flare, what wit makes you blue in your atomic wakefulness, your life-bestowing anger, your seething heat and light? Is it me that saddens? Is it all of us? Is it the calamity of prioritizing convenience we have foisted on the world you burn alive. All day...

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Zeno the Stoic

When something he wanted to happen didn’t happen, he was not disappointed. When something he didn’t want to happen happened, he was not angered. When something he wanted to happen happened. he was not gleeful. Zeno the Stoic taught us to lead a well-tempered life....

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The Last Hurrah

At first I didn’t think about the last, first things were always first. The last could wait. Firsts would never last. Ironically, first things became the last first things, first words, first steps, first dance, first kiss. As Heraclitus taught us, your first step...

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The Candidate

To be sheltered among echoes and mirrors, that’s what the candidate wanted, no hard shiny surface silent, reflected image, resounded voice. In the crowd, the politics of duplication, every thought identical, the governance of mimocracy. Does the candidate imitate the...

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U-turn

the whole world the hole whirled flung toward reversals  a charge, a sally, a rally a tinny tiny finale      

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