When a wall in our mind exists
Between intellect and spirituality
It tends to be a dangerous wall...

Sometimes
More is
Said
In less
Breathes
Than the
Many breathed

Life is an eroding cliff face
Continually battered by ever rising tides
What we knew ten years ago
Is forever gone
We stand, yes we stand
Now into ever increasing violence and hatred
We open our doors wide to the oppressed fleeing hatred
And yet once here some, but only some
Will stand on the soapbox of life
Spreading their own form of hatred
ISIL
The modern form of ******
Oh yes
For they have their own agenda for ethnic cleansing
BUT HOW DO WE CHOOSE?
Who to love, who to hate.
We don't, we can't
Because our sentimentality has let them into our midst
Perhaps our children, great grandchildren
Might learn the lessons

always remember,
words spoken,
especially
in anger,

can never be
Unheard

rarely
Forgiven

but not
*Forgotten

The body now old and worn
But my mind is still sound
To many broken bones from my early years
Rugby the game that I loved
Still love
But rugby back then in army
Was a different game
The sly punch in the testicles
Punch in the mouth
Well that was all part of the game
Later you would share a beer with the guy
Who broke your fingers
No, no we'll never grow old
Until you wake one morning
And feel the pain
In long past shattered bones

An artist’s ego
Casts a shadow
On the beauty
Of art
Artist’s growth
Happens within
Not from
False sense of pride
It’s a process
Where
One evolves everyday
Stay humble
To appreciate
All works of art
With an open mind
Try to read art
Not from
Borrowed perspectives
But delve deeper
Into the world of art
It’s an endless journey
Creativity is eternal
Moment you stop
And find yourself
Obstructed by ego
To learn and participate
You have foregone
The chance
To become a true artist

One who uses today
to focus on yesterday
overlooks a better tomorrow.

Learn from yesterday.
Put it into practice today.
May we build a better tomorrow?

...
Adventures,
though
longed
for,

are
uncomfortable
things.
...­