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Homage to the network

Clatter and buzz of the hard drive platter
Late night communion with my node
Bit and bytes streaming out into the ether
	through wires and routes meticulously setup by an unknown other.
Resting on a bedrock of civilization, countless unknown others.
	all building a world for me.
Thanks for your toil. You allow me to dream, to aspire for something more.
	with you I can face the void and know I am loved.
		thank you for your work, for allowing me to grow.




I never saw a wild thing
Sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead
From a bough
Without ever having felt sorry for itself.
-- D. H. Lawrence

Langston Hughes

Dream deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

–Langston Hughes

poems.txt · Last modified: 2016/03/21 07:25 (external edit)