Now that is a thought. No distractions other than living your life. Very, very simple life

What I write! And done on the toilet! Lol
This is quite the masterpiece. I enjoyed all the back and forth. Like reading a tennis match.
Caveman vs the 21st century.
Well done!

Loved the ending!

I am somewhat jealous; my toilet poetry is usually flushed because of the brown streaks. You write of the ying and yang of individualism, the brown streaks versus what once was. We humans have lost touch with our origins. We once made cave art, danced and howled at the moon; where it was women who ruled the campfires. And in some ways, we were more intelligent than we are today. We could talk to animals and create myths about the formations in stars. We will never get back to this, but I do think we can create a society where we once again talk to animals and reach for the stars.

Your poem is thought-provoking and appreciated. Thanks for the share.
-Curt/redzone

I love how this captures modern distraction and self-reflection. How easily our minds drift, and how strangely frustrating it is when we notice it haha

Now aint that the bloomin truth .. Say it like it is Peter .. mine is driving me batty right now but where would we be without em eh’ .. Write on brother .. Neville

Great work.
Straight to the point.
The real problem of our time.
Regards James

So true!

Excellent thoughts on the physicality of intimacy. Well articulated. Great write.

John

I agree absolutely to you, Peter! Love is a holy union of body, mind and soul. All sides want and need to be addressed. Ideally, a relationship is based on intimacy, soul- and mindful conversations and wild and ecstatic sex. Great write, my friend!

Love requires too much. Lust is quick and easy and short term.

Nice write, Pete. Vivid, lustful, very creative.

“before my daily rebirth” I dug that line because the rest we get (sometimes) refreshes us, although for some more than others, it’s likely the last time. It reminds me that I have to be thankful for every day I get and try to make the best of it.
Nicely done.

I turned 78 today, so I hear you loud and clear. Each night, one wonders if dawn, or something else, or nothing at all will come. We get one of them, but not our choice.

Oh, it is all so true! In some universe somewhere inside his head, maybe. I think the people in there will deal with him in a very harsh way. Can’t you see the signs? He is slipping away — just not fast enough.