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More Worky Blatherings:
By Billy | December 3, 2010
It doesn’t matter.
If you breathe, you are powerful. If you don’t, you are still powerful.
When you were born, you were perfect. When you die, you’ll be perfect.
The electromagnetic forces binding your strings and quarks and particles to eachother…
the nothingness between the empty spaces in your body…
they hold more energy than any bomb any human ever dropped anywhere.
Hmph. Power.
A pen and a sword. In a pocket, in a stone.
Are as mighty as their masses and the force of their relative gravity.
But they don’t have to be
simply the sum of their parts.
The propensity to do on the part of a weilder turns a sword to a shield or a pen to a dagger.
The pen and the sword are useless.
Lame in their own right.
The power comes from the action and how
they are used to fight.
The propensity to do the part that we’re here for, whether it’s chose by us or for us. Whether it will try us or destroy us.
There is a roll that you are filling
There’s always a role, if you are willing.
When you breathe, you are powerful.
When you breathe, you are whole.
Topics: poetry | Comments Off on More Worky Blatherings:
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