Freedom from bullies
Persecution
Famine and war
Prejudice
And harassment
Tyranny
And
CONTROL,
Cult or system
The
List
Can
Go
On!
Most people want freedom!
(From something).

The Osprey
Dives
Downward
Toward
The
Water
Wings vertical
Like
An Angel
Parting the waters
Like
God did
For Moses
Submerging
Itself
Talons fanned
Clutching
The Beautiful fish
That
Fed
The 5000
By the command of JESUS
It
Now ascends
Like Christ
Into Heaven
With
It's
Sustenance
Food
Its Glory
Its
Efforts
Rewarded
Heaven
Attained.

Like industrialisation
May seem
Like
Progress,
But
In reality
It's
A mess!
It's
A vacant creation
VACUOUS!
It' s
Against NATURE !
Against
Purity
And
Truth.
It's
Nothing to do  with
Old age or Youth,
Biology
And
ALL
The
Ologies...
Academics
Scientists
Historians
Politicians
Theologia­ns...
Do Not Call The Shots!
Remember
This
My
Precious
Children
Which
At your outset
Outshine
The
Establishment...
Created
By
...?

Ma and Pa,
lover doves,
kiss with fists
and hug with shoves.

She kisses the boys and girls
that pay the most attention.
The boys play with vapor
and her girls play with tension.
I wish I was the only one
that she will decide to touch
but I am who I am
and, in a way, that is too much.

Sawblade-sunflower petals
wrap around an earthy cushion,
and the humidity hangs in the air
as her beige body is crumpled
and I feel too sober, pushing.

Baby yellow falls apart,
in her hair the flower starts
to trickle onto sheet and pillow,
decorating the absences
that define how hollow
she and I have felt before --
******* like an endangered species
on the killing floor, I whisper once,
I whisper sweet, "Don't you wish
that we didn't meet?"

She kisses the boys and girls
that give the most attention.
I played with vapor
and she played with tension.

The ***** ate into rocky soil,
pushing through clots of dirt.
It reminded me of
the girl I love
from two-thousand fifteen
and how she
struggled to be clean,
because of a needle eating skin
burrowing towards vein,
against what was within.

My fingers pushed on it's ribcage
-- I never found out it's *** --
only forcing brief breathes
and gasps flowing from
my grasp, knowing that
I can't save her and that
I can't save him.

Patches of white were
framed around squid-ink clash;
fleas fleeing from
an ever-slow dying of heat,
hopping onto me,
a host with a heartbeat.

She never had a name
and all I can call him is 'it'.
It's paws fluttered like
a desperation dash across
the invisible wall of life,
a borderline between
eternal logos and
dimming pathos.

Whiskers brushed against the
plastic, grocery store bag,
destined for celery,
destined for dead cat.

And as the shovel
drank the soil,
And as the bag fell
into nothing --
Heaven or Hell --
I feel so tainted
for a life so fleeting,
for a love so wasted,
for everything leaving.

For everyone leaving.