To Die or Not To Die, this is not the question, volume 3 All say "How hard it is that we have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live. I needed a repository for all of my last writes, “last” being undefined and thus I preferred to have them all in one place, resulting finally in this heterogeneous, eclectic and directionless amassment. Because, see, this twitch in my hand forcing words to be laid down on paper, doesn’t stop. Some kind of malady.
(extracted from the complete [thick] book)
(return here from poems using only the "back" button)
~Samuel Langhorne Clemens aka Mark Twain
Thus if I so happen to go unexpectedly, it will be at most one book left incomplete. The “last” book. This one.
PS1. Many of these deal with death. Kind of comes... naturally.
PS2. Never thought this will be so... lengthy. I probably live too long or write too much. Or both. Sorry!
PS3. For convenience, I decided to split this last book in volumes, three for now. This is volume 3.
©anonymouslast Not so subtle re-redefinitions
©anonymouslast Time Machine
©anonymouslast Relativity things
©anonymouslast A special kind of Christmas
©anonymouslast Of time
©anonymouslast Inching through the night
©anonymouslast Mirror mirror on the wall
©anonymouslast ad hoc, two
©anonymouslast Age things
©anonymouslast My favorite pastime
©anonymouslast The last poem I’ll ever write
©anonymouslast I should stop writing poems middle of the night
©anonymouslast Death Died
©anonymouslast The After
©anonymouslast THE question
©anonymouslast baby, baby
©anonymouslast One Poem Line
©anonymouslast baby, baby, jealous maybe?
©anonymouslast Brusselianas Brussileiras
©anonymouslast Some kind of
©anonymouslast To be the one
©anonymouslast Again... damn!
©anonymouslast Mosquitoes, two
©anonymouslast Natural Selection
©anonymouslast Perfumes, various
©anonymouslast Lilac, two
©anonymouslast Lilac, three
©anonymouslast Collors Collector
©anonymouslast Corpses Collector
©anonymouslast Eden, two
©anonymouslast Strange People
©anonymouslast Quoting Myself
©anonymouslast a long time ago
©anonymouslast Fed Up
©anonymouslast And feast they did
©anonymouslast Shining Light?
©anonymouslast The man who was peeing potatoes
©anonymouslast Losing, losing, lost
©anonymouslast Plastic Nuggets
©anonymouslast Let it wonder.
©anonymouslast The answer is negative
©anonymouslast one of those if’s
©anonymouslast another one of those if’s
©anonymouslast On my death bed
anonymouslast is a pseudonym for yossi faybish
All say "How hard it is that we have to die" - a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.
I needed a repository for all of my last writes, “last” being undefined and thus I preferred to have them all in one place, resulting finally in this heterogeneous, eclectic and directionless amassment. Because, see, this twitch in my hand forcing words to be laid down on paper, doesn’t stop. Some kind of malady.