I guess Jesus ventured so we’d have skin.
A difference between water and benevolence
I love the urge to defy a God
who wills such resistance to the fog
Of time, Pump Gypsies, folded trachea, funeral attendees
and the cloveture between of all
Raindrops in the Andelluvian sea.
Time and People dissolving the I Believe.

from the winter storm
that cut me down.
Now I’ve thorns
I wear as crowns.
A fallen tree,
my bark stripped.
Now I’ve quills to fill
the holes
since I tipped.
No one wants a pointed edge,
broken stock,
a spiky hedge.

Why west want let many to fall asleep? under the earthy canopy
Seriously, I am serious expression
That the west will waste east...

Winter will soon slip into
spring, all dressed in 
green; bouquet nights and
the rebirth of love.
Snakes gliding through
the grass.
But for now, we deal
with ice and snow,
slick roads and cold
hearts.

I was on the bus the
other day.
The driver had a
slippery scowl pasted
on her chubby face.
My mask had inched
down on my nose, and she
yelled, "put your mask
on or you will be off the bus."


I was having a terrible day already.
My asthma was acting up,
I could hardly breathe, and I had
just had to put my beloved
dog to sleep.
I miss her, but she slipped
away peacefully.


I rang the bell to get off at
my stop, as I chewed my
gum in passive anger.
I stood up and walked toward
the front of the bus.
The aisle was slick from
the snow and ice.
As I neared the exit door,
I took the gum out of my
mouth, so that I could throw
it away, but things went
horribly awry. 


I slipped on a wet
spot, and to catch
myself, I firmly planted 
my gum hand on the back
of the driver's head.
She had short hair, but still,
the *** of gum was now 
embedded in her golden 
locks.
I'm sure a haircut is
her near future.


Since then, I intend
to tread softly and cautiously,
and just maybe,
she does too.

The consent for war
is constantly being manufactured
and simply fed to the sleeping masses…
War is not good for us
nor our societies…
We are all part of a collective,
the nature of divinity!
Love thy neighbors
is still the golden rule.
We are mere humans
and war is a drowning pool!

in the depth of human tragedy
there is also this dillema
of tyranny
that either the truth or the lie
is going to crash the tyrant

they play reality games
and
the delusion will end in catastrophe
but
how much of the world is going to take with it?

spring is in a rush this year,
to affirm the rationality
of life

Sweetheart, the earth is getting cold
we have to do something
take ourselves by the hand
The guides walk away

in different directions
guided by the wishes
of their followers, that's how

it always goes, whatever you think of it
If only there were guardian angels
with power, not the writers

who meet in this café
no, a Guardian Council
for presidents and scholars

who want to unload graphite powder
on the north pole, throw atomic bombs
upon it, or build a dam

in the Bering Strait, with pumps
on peaceful nuclear energy
finishing the job

Yet... all of us, we
must do it ourselves, guard each other
with wings of compassion and reason