Just, remembering …

2djs3RGI remember the days when people used to take the time to write a letter and send it to the Post-office; and the recipient, knowing full well that it’d take days or even weeks for a letter to get to its intended destination would pour their heart out on paper; marking every detail as clearly as possible. With texts and chat, the playing field has had a serious do-over, immediate communication prompts effortless responses, and unfortunately with every emerging generation the words in texts just keep getting shorter.

I asked anonymous once, “why do people rid the alphabet of its job?” and the response I got was, “We do it to save time” … … …Yes, because putting a single ‘y’ in ‘My’ will surely shorten your lifespan …

Call me a detail freak, but honestly, I’d rather chat with someone who uses proper wording, than someone wHu T0Ks LYk Th!S.

On the bright side: those who can’t spell have an easy out …

 

-Dante

Home Sweet Home.


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How have I been? I’m glad you asked

An illusive set of events, chuffed they’re all in the past

Wrist breaking tests plus a daily dosage of assignments

No dent to my passion, the fervor for writing is still in alignment

Believe it or not, I wrote this on the go

I know, my addiction to the ink is starting to show

I can’t tell you how good it is, to be here again

A place where I can take logic and give it a spin

But enough about me, let’s talk about you

Reading your poetry is what I’m dying to do.

-Dante

Hours Of Light.

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Waking up with re-affirmed motivation, marking the calendar, another day gone. Sun rays piercing the shutters, an impressive display of light, reminder of a world that exists beyond my own. Rough drafts and crumpled papers on the ground, making for a unique carpet design, nothing but an overflowing trash-can; something to be expected from a writer who wants to deliver nothing but his best. Conversing with providers of positive energy through cyberspace, a Cold circle that has seen its fair share of variations over the years.

A part of me in each piece written, an assortment of emotions; when combined, reveal a complete picture. “Pompous, arrogant, selfish, vain” a medley of recurring words thrown at me in no particular order, meant to impale and not to build. Rarely understood, compensating for misunderstandings by sharing my inner thoughts. As the sun descends I push rewind, gauging the positives and negatives of the day, counting my blessings; making it my mission to have done something productive. As long as those I care about are smiling, I believe my mission for the day is complete.

 

Dante

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