Ancestors finger painted the first walls
- walls of shelter
a black cave where harnessed fire flickered
and made the paintings dance

Their Sun still rises
and we share their Moon

Except now Man has walked on the Moon

and is entertaining the possibility
of going to Mars

and going to Mars to search out caves
to shelter from the radiation

I wonder what will be the first painting
-perhaps a blue planet called home.

On my way
to observe
the world today,
this reality
that will decay
as it fades
from green glades
to a cement sidewalk
city of strangers
onto crumbling towers,
then back again
to nature,
and a dark void.
Where is the art
and meaning in this
existence?

Another bit
of walking in
a water like flow
towards a direction
where no one
else ever goes.

The squeaking
car frame
inches
towards the
intersection,
changes lane
to head out
on an empty street
leaving only me
to remain
in silent contemplation.

Random red flowers
already budded
built up from
a brick bed
in contrast
to the car lots
that I past
it is confusing.

Into the small
white building
for scheduled observation,
for preplanned poetry
and for self-education,
I see random racoons
moving in the room
crashing in to
monochromatic clutter,
conceptual art
but I don’t get it.

Could it be
the chaos created
by consumption
in this modern
society?

I return to
my small room
to catch the sleep
that has been
chasing me
since I got off
at 7 am.
Still pondering
my weary wanderings
as I doze off.

Is life this the answer
to the art
that I have
yet to understand?

The point of a puzzle
Is to find the right piece

The joint needs a muscle
To bend at the knees

Cards must be shuffled
Don't fold or they crease

Gambled paper doubles
Lose it to false beliefs

Failed to make us humble
The game's fixed by elites.

One reason to trouble, now
We lost our inner peace.

you'll sense much friction
whence the ladies come into contact
they'll show an outer courtesy
toward each other
yet be privately thinking
I'm not fond of her

there's no love lost
no not at all
between them there's
a thorny wall

the forced pleasantries
are a dead give away
it's not hard for an interpreter
to see through the display

you'll wonder
who or what?
lies in the middle
of their stance
which doesn't fail
to catch the translator's
glance

Can't you tell I'm just a shell
Of the man I used to be
Once a lover not a fighter
Till the world kept punching me

Upper cut or in the gut
It's pretty much the same
With swinging fists at every step
It's hard to get out of the way

I still think that peacefully
Is the way things ought to be
But at best guess there's few of us left
That hold tight to this belief

Backed into a corner
No telling what a man will do
I just know that it's in his nature
To never want to lose

I'm here to tell that this shell
Has gained back the confidence it lacks
Once a lover now a fighter
As I'll soon start punching back

I'll bring you silver
I'll bring you gold
Along with the promise
To never let go

I'll buy you diamonds
To compliment rings
I'll give you all this
And many more things

I'll give you my life
I'll give you my love
I'll give you it all
Till you say that's enough

I'll hold onto your hand
For the comfort it brings
Plus everything else
That you'll ever need

I'll hand you my heart
Along with the key
Let you have my eyes
So your beauty you'll see

I'll give you my thoughts
With the secrets they tell
And if there's anything left
I'll give you all that as well