Mark Peterson Poet Free verse

What Matters Most

What struck me most—
the sameness of it all.
Drivers, nearly faceless—
their time and miles drifting
slowly into past. 

On their way to
strike a bargain:
life energy for money to
buy things, which like them
must surely age and die. 

Ask the earth
who possesses it?
Who owns the sea and sky?
Or at night stands wondering,
which stars above are mine? 

Perhaps one day 
we'll realize 
that what we own
and matters most
is what we give away.

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Connie Marcum Wong April 27, 2020 at 5:26 PM The profound naked truth shines in this brilliant poem Mark! This gem is going into my Faves! Blessings xxoo Mark Peterson April 27, 2020 at 10:46 PM I try to find meaning in what sometimes seems like empty existence. Or perhaps it is as I stated in another poem: an absence of leadership. The blind above in fog would lead, who daily task us for our gaze. They tire us with unending screed, and we ignore while they abrase. Why is it that people lose their sense of direction on the way to work and end up in DC instead of the used car lot they're used to in Vacuumville?

John Hamilton April 27, 2020 at 3:21 PM Well said Mark, the greater happiness comes from giving, of ourselves, and our possessions. You can't take it with you that's for sure, glad I read this today! John Hamilton April 28, 2020 at 1:53 PM That's a good one lol, the 5% is on full display!! Mark Peterson April 27, 2020 at 11:01 PM John, so nice to read your comments. Erich Fromm wrote a book: To Have Or To Be, and it has lent clarity to this otherwise baffling condition, using a brain we may never understand. Or as my favorite philosopher once opined: "They say we use only 5% of our brain. Imagine what we might do, if we used the other 60%.

Lawrence Sharp April 22, 2020 at 8:17 AM An excellent expression of the profound truths that cannot be bought or bargained away, Mark. Mark Peterson April 30, 2020 at 1:46 AM Thank you, for the attentiveness you pay to my rambling. Somehow, you always pay my poems more accord than I expect upon their completion. Many, many thanks.

Robert Lindley April 19, 2020 at 11:26 AM Ask this world why its darkness consumes and destroys. It will whisper back-- because I can. Then notice as it smiles with wicked glee and lies to your newfound fear temporarily wipe away. When born we only temporary posses life-- all is for a very short time borrowed! Great thought provoking piece my friend. A fav. God bless.. Mark Peterson April 30, 2020 at 1:57 AM Thank you, Robert, for your boundless support of others' work here on Soup. You are a true gem. Thanks for supporting me too, whether I deserve it or not.

Michelle Faulkner April 6, 2020 at 1:42 PM Some say, what we give away comes back to us two fold - I love the grace and simplicity of this, Mark. Mark Peterson April 7, 2020 at 10:38 AM What an endearing reply. I wrote it to engender stock expressions, and it's gratifying to achieve the desired results. Thanks for your persistent support of my work.

Andrea Dietrich April 3, 2020 at 2:22 PM AMAZING, Mark. I LOVE this. Fave. Mark Peterson April 7, 2020 at 10:42 AM Thanks, dear friend. And your diligent support of poets here is manifestly on displa, so the world is a better place because you're alive.