I was told a brain on poem was a terrible thing to waste . To which I retorted ,"Which one is wasted?"

the other day
I occupied a chair
at a sidewalk café
watching the vanity fair of the quotidian
float by in quickly changing apparitions

an endless flow of different ages, nations, fashions,
skin colors, miens, ****** expressions, postures & gaits
kept passing through  my field of vision

it made me wonder why
some people get so furious
when they  just hear about
    not even meet
    the ‘others’ different from themselves
that they start dropping  bombs and shooting rockets

I think they rather should be curious
and eager to discover
how the immense variety of humankind
can help expand a locally grown mind

and recognize
that we are all of the same kind

every day we learn
how many died of violence
in any corner of the globe,
be it in wars,  by terror,  
fundamentalist fanatics,
gun-toting psychopaths and haters,
or all of the above

the figures seem to grow
the daily death toll makes us callous
what earlier was horror
has turned into ****** routine

so much so that
when there’s a day we do NOT hear
about some grisly ******
we feel like we have got a bargain!

recently
after every massacre
by some fanaticized pathological idiots
politicians call upon their citizens
to come together
and pray for the murdered and their families

this is absolutely appropriate

but it seems
that ever since 9/11
the nation only comes together
AFTER more of its members have been killed

I wish very much
that the nation
   AND politicians
would come together
BEFORE  the next massacre
and take appropriate action
to prevents such disasters
in the first place

they are different
    just look at them
their skin color  their clothing  their speech
their customs   the way they move their bodies

we like them as tourists
they leave money in our country
and then go home again

if they buy the house next to us
THAT’s different

it takes a conscious effort
to see them not as aliens
    but as our neighbors

lest we become aware
that all of us are aliens
in most countries of our globe

i wish you would still love me
the way you used to do
but i lost you at forever
my love fades
to deepest blue

i miss you
i miss the you
you once were
not the you
you are now
not the you
that you have become
i miss the you
that i once knew
i miss the beautiful
you

They send you to hell
       And bring you back
With
      Words
They conjure
Your deepest thoughts
       Into the same
             Flaws
    And then
        They destroy
Or

       Make you
          With their double
               Sharp
                    Swords
    POETS ARE EVIL
©EVNA LUNA

It's  a  nice  crisp  frosty  morning.
All  is  still, no  wind.
Trees  and  bushes  motionless.
Birds  rushing  around  hunting  for  food.
Sky  clear  with  a  hint  of  sunshine.
We  must  make  the  most  of  it.
Rain  and  wind  is  waiting  in  the  wings.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.