I drew a circle
On the map
On the steps
Of my flat
A place of
Serenity
Virtue and
Peace. I knew
Before this
Place of seats.
A seat to sit on,
Became recommenced,
Perched on a tree
In a lovely breeze,
High sprung I rung
Past the old self of
M
E.
Taking notes
Learning
Lessons.
Keeping memories
Of morning blessings,
Putting away in a casket
The fears and questions,
Now again I feel caressing.

As a newcomer
To this premier
Website for
poesía,
I
Get
Motion
Sick
Ness.

From seeing
The disdain
And despise.
Seeing other
Poets young
Old, couraged
Bold, happy,
Molds in
Their prime. Get bullied by other bullies.

By fanatics who ****
And maim, while their
Heads are held up in shame.
With a halo of pain
Murdering one
Another.

I seemed to have forgotten
Aren't we sisters
And poetic brothers,
Yet giving hatred
For hatred!
Not healing
Its
Wounds.

I believe in a powerful
God who loves, not based
On a theory of Darwinian
Baboons.

Message not clear
To
You. We are indistinguishable.
With the same red flowing through our arms.
Hearts that beat
With homes
Alarms.
Some drive cars
Others can't afford them.
Some have high class suits
Some are poor,
Some handle food
Some open doors.
Some journey
I want to explore.

To the point
The
malefactor and villain
Is not the ones you
Choose to
Make smaller. You only make them BIGGER
As your size
Capsulates as a pea to the wind.

Your the same you killer of poetic flame!
YOU ARE THEM.

So stop Killing
With words
Of no
Knowledge.

Start shaking hands
Saying good Job
Poetic muse
Of earth wind.

As you slay
And think -hey-
Maybe today I won the fight.
Always
Remember
You ****** yourself
Slowly
And that piles
Night by night.

when you wallow in the past, the past is your future
dark days behind become dark days ahead
when those ghosts become your rulers
join them, because you're already dead