You can be a man of peace
But there will come a time
When you find the least of these
Must stand up and fight

If you let a world of bullies
Continue to beat you down
You have the right to stand and fight
Pick yourself up off the ground

For far too long with time drawn
Taken advantage of
It's your turn now to win a round
******* tight the boxing gloves

Backed into a corner
Up against the wall
When you find no options left
That's when you make the call

To come out of this swinging
Who can really blame
You for any reason
When you up and loudly proclaim

That you're a man of peace
And hold tight the right
When you find that there's a need
To stand up and fight

Art is born in a poets hand,
Though, like the fragile flower it is,
Art always crumbles to dust.

It drags the poet with it too,
For deep in their heart it grows its roots.
So when it fades, wrapping tight around their sickly heart,
The beating stops and they drop.

where breath is the lone sound
you know your heart is beating
-the mantra
-a beacon, a herald,
-a fire in the dark
-a way home
-a journey
-a place apart.

a meditation on love

It is to
vibrate as high
as one can fathom
by laughing
with sweet thunder
to uplift the soul

To be in sync with
the natural world

To give thanks
to the higher force
surrounding
the all of life

To walk in kind loving steps
with gentle words on
the lips

Remembering who you are
existing in the sacred
arms of the holy fabric
of everything.

Societal dependency
A disease disguised as validation
Ruling out subjective truths
The indifferent Universe
Testament for choosing
An autonomous path
Being in the dark, is not a valid answer
For exploration of one's might
One may suffer incessantly
In order to lift the doors
One can never reach the zenith
By succumbing to the norms.

The silent star gazing back at me
Revealing the planted darkness
Creeping up my mind
But when did it get there
Certainly not at birth.

Toward Left or toward Right
Each with advantages and disadvantages
Canceling out the ultimate reward
Of coalescing with Creation
Hence, what must one do
To rise above the mist of understanding
The key lies in the fist of defiance.

I am a rebel with a cause
Forging ahead with the enlightenment
Of conforming crowds.

I love the flow, not the rush,
I cherish the spontaneous, not the forced.
I love the natural, not the imitation,
The gentle breeze, not the storm.

I adore a ripple’s soft caress,
Not the crash of towering waves.
I embrace tranquility—
I am peace.

I welcome what is meant for me
And release what is not.

The omnipotent
Doesn’t lead seminars.
The Universe is real.
Believe.

No one listens
when you talk
in black and white
Only when
you color
the conversation
can you get them
to think twice
Black or White
they fight back
Turn to color
sweeten truth
Make it smell better
they hear only
what they want
Their minds
have become
untouchable
There is only
Silence
now
in the black
and white