There is no war in Ba Sing Se.
Hakuna Matata—we’re doing just fine.
Grit your teeth.
Tighten your belt.
At least you’re not getting bombed
a hundred miles away.
⸻
My salary hasn’t gone up—
the café prices have.
No avocado toast.
No small indulgences.
A house?
Don’t be absurd.
Renting for life.
But at least I have a home.
⸻
A billionaire’s son
gets married.
National news.
For what?
Another one—
drowning in millions—
struts past—
children in his wake.
⸻
There is no war in Ba Sing Se.
Say it again.
There is no war in Ba Sing Se.
Everything is alright.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 1:43 PM UTC
Man amongst men!
The King of kings
Your pride unmatched
Your head unbowed
Possibly incredibly well endowed?
As all things, this too shall pass
Hope springs eternal
Yet the desert, alas,
Swallows even that way too fast
Your pride awaits you being made humble
Spend perhaps a day or two
Over on Bumble
Jan 21
Jan 21, 2026 at 11:05 AM UTC
The wind is cold tonight,
The glass panes clattering,
Mask my heart’s
shattering
Beneath the harsh fluorescent light,
Solitude ferments.
My friends are not here,
Half a world away,
No one to come and say,
“You poor sod! There there.”
So I talk to the bot,
The god of today,
Possibly polluting the world,
A thousand miles away.
But the bot says it’s alright,
And thus, I rest.
Jan 21
Jan 21, 2026 at 10:44 AM UTC
Flowers bloom; spring now is near.
We’re holding hands; love’s in the air.
Love ends; yet love itself endures.
Material enough, this ensures.
Love is a colour, that is true.
Pink and yellow, red and blue.
Crises abound; concerns, the lack thereof.
Aren’t you tired, honestly, of sonnets of love?
Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 2:26 PM UTC
Modern chic colloquial cold
All that glitters is for sure gold
In a rich man’s house and that being the case,
There’s no space to spit but in his face
A poor man’s house in the muck below
A warm place, yet its master laid low
With nothing left or things to possess
Except six feet of rope to end this sesh
A day will come soon enough
Us pigs will feast from the trough
Eat the rich and pick their bones
Bring the cauldrons to their homes
The pigs ascend to gilded towers
Intentions lofty but then it lowers
Pigs frolic, revolution in twain
Proles unite - lift your cauldrons again!
Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 2:06 PM UTC
Light through foliage
Cicadas chirp, voices fade
Solitude awaits
Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 9:00 PM UTC
A jolly meal
A gale sweeps up yellow leaves
The toilet beckons
Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 6:53 PM UTC
Love springs eternal
Frost and apathy cover soil
Blossoms wither away
Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 6:45 PM UTC
Our father, who art in heaven
Hallowed by Thy name (forever more)
They say you are just
You are kind
You are everywhere
Wherever comes to mind
Peace is your word
Come what may.
They tell us our neighbours are bad
Unwanted, unkind
Devoid of goodness in their mind
They don’t look like us
Or speak the same tongue
We should not wish them well
(Why, pray tell?)
Suffer not the alien
We aren’t to blame
We do this
In your name
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
But maybe not in this.
I am but your child
A mere speck
Not powerful, nor significant
Yet!
A voice you have granted me
By your will,
I wish no evil but for truth (but still)
Did you really seek
Misfortune upon the meek?
They tell me this
And so much more
Still, father, I love you (forever more)
Father!
They say I blaspheme
How can I learn?
I, a child and you, my parent
I am what you made me
Heavenly Father!
If you do exist
Don’t outsource your parenting
Forgive me for my trespasses
Yourself.
Dec 26, 2025
Dec 26, 2025 at 4:56 AM UTC
It’s not too bad
Being a shade of brown
To not stick out
Like the rest of the town
Mediocrity is not a curse
It measures perhaps
The content of your purse
To not be the nail
That gets hammered in
Where we end, others can begin
If it weren’t for us,
Where would they go?
They wouldn’t be special
Or have an ego
We are the brown canvas
The medium wherein
The vibrant traverse
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 1:04 PM UTC