i am the result of my past
we are all the result of a past
it builds and grows and builds
a new layer everyday
you don't have to love each layer
but learn from it
it made you
it built you
and you are strong

fireflies
alive in my mind
burning bright and buzzing
like a neon sign

riding in the car at night
in the backseat
like when i was a child
at twenty-three
i'm still a child.

in a flash
i see them pass
fireflies
alive in my mind.

At times I refuse to believe that
Racism exists, other than in
Movies and jokes.
It is just too ridiculous a
Concept.

In a world overweight with
Selfish, hate hurt, grudge holding
Beasts of Barely Men
With gold lust in their bone
Marrow and gold dust on their
Minds working to make it all
A miserable place for everyone else...
Judge from colour?

Who can afford to exclude the
Good ones, over something
As sadly superficial
As skin?
Angels and devils walk
Within all shades of
Man
Alike.

I'm sitting outside my tent in a meadow verdant green
Just sitting, listening, dreaming
Surrounded by stately trees Sillouted
against an azure blue sky
Tall hedgerows filled with blossom
White, like drifts of new fallen snow
That's why I'm just sitting, listening,  dreaming
The storm we had an hour ago long passed by
Now I sit and watch white wispy clouds floating there on high
Why am I sitting,  listening, dreaming
Do you really need to ask?
If I truly believed in God then I've found heaven here on earth
I've no TV or radio but music fills the air
Leaves rustling in the gentle breeze and bird song near and far
And so I'm just sitting,  listening, dreaming

ask your blood
your limbs, your breathing feet
what Poetry is -
a phylogenetic anomaly
in light’s discontinuity

or just…
the strange yearning of hematopoiesis

ask the silence in your lungs
the bursting DNA, reinterpreted
how it allures memory inside your bones
how it treads conventions of sleep
with the weight of a sigh

if you ask me
what Poetry is
I’d say: breath calligraphy
a winged dream of depth
on enchanted retina
the bitter-sweet art of airy harmony

ask your hands
what Poetry is
perhaps they’ll take a moment
to bloom

From Americas rocky mountains to Himalayan snow capped peaks
These are things of natures that all of us should keep

Australias barren outback, Englands green and pleasant hills
Nature free for all mankind who seek her gentle thrills

From the Amazons tropic forest to arctic cold grey wastes
Each a place of beauty when travelled at natures pace

The azure blue seas of the pacific isles, cruel dark seas of the southern cape
Placed there by natures hand to be respected without hate

Dusty brown plumage of the desert vulture, bright birds of paradise
Birds of every colour, birds of  every size

Scorpions of the desert sands and grey atlantic seals
All there for a reason as only nature can reveal

Think about the lion, African king of beasts
The soft eyed Chinese panda that our children find so cute

Mountain tops and hidden valleys, vast lakes and rolling seas
All placed there by nature but not to be abused

Animals reptiles birds put here for you and me
They should be studied in the wild. NOT KEPT INSIDE A ZOO

We can't alter history or repair the damage that we've caused
But we can stop the mass destruction of a world that's mine and yours

I'm an avid reader of books,  many different books
Tolstoys War And Peace took me seven days to read
Lord Of The Rings Trylogy just 3 days
One of those books I've read just once
The other I could almost quote
word
for
word
I read some truly great works of poetry here
Some simple with a message loud and clear
easily understood
Some long but with a rhythmic flow
the sort of poem where you cant let go
Then there is the long drawn out dirge
full of metaphors and unusual words that I don't even understand
I might read it once,  try to understand then file it under done
I just write the simple stuff,  that's what I do best
But, no matter how or what you write its all good.

                           After all, poetry is not a test ~
                      it is an expression of our humanity.