The awakening to knowledge of yourself
Is an individual process of seeking truths
Allow the stillness and find your peace
Nothing in nature blooms for all the year
Sometimes we can not escape the darkness
But we can learn to love ourselves there and
What we find may be a blessing in disguise

Do no harm.
  Leave the war-plane frame of reference
       to other puzzle pieces.
We are naked.
We are not.
We are not certain of which
         monologue to begin.
So we chant in
       unified panting
         etching legends
          out of rhymes.
Do no harm.
    Do no harm.
It matters now that the growing telephones
          are charged like neglected
         poisons of dampening redials.
Truth is gaining wisdom like
         groups of formatted crosses
           jumping like splinters
          of margarine jars.
We are naked.
We are not.
We are one with living and prepared
          for the drying of the hands.
Clean me up and leave me outside.
Sun gone but wind remaining.
Do no harm.
    Do no harm.
      Do no harm.

Who will mend this broken chair
This useless one just standing there
Waiting for a drop of glue
Who will mend it, if not you?

Then take this lonesome broken heart
Can you fathom where to start
Who can make it beat anew
Who can mend it, if not you?

I drew an old man,
with beard

like mine--though his face had
more wrinkles

deep lines of age
are hard to draw  

my pencil bore down at the center
of those creases

like I was trying to leave a mark
that wouldn't fade

or trying to carve something
from nothing

piling lead upon lead,
on paper

that couldn’t protest my adding of years,
with a dull number two        

when my pencil was but a nub, there were
more years yet to add  

by then, my hands were weary
my eyes blurred

I had no blade to shave the wood    
from the shaft    

to make more eternal marks
on white space

Don't believe sweet talkers
They are just a deception
A fairytale, but never a dream come true

Don't believe a broken heart
They are too weak
To see the truth and let themselves dream

Don't believe a non-believer
They have already failed
To have a dream

Never believe a sweet talker with broken heart who doesn't believe in dreams

But never ever give up on your dreams
Cause dreams they should never get lost

In this layered darkness,
deaths are mere numbers
carelessly scribbled on
a blackened wall, unnoticed.

Grief is left out in the open
like orphaned children,
no one bothered to count
as it has no significance.

Isn't it  meaningless
as darkness festers still.

Every war claimed won,
leaves behind heaps of
mutilated corpses, that
in nightmares of living,
get up and walk speaking in tongues
with blood letting bodies falling apart.

So many concealed graves are
camouflaged, hidden from the eyes
of the people,whose time is precious
to waste  for such things as war crimes.


But these blackened graves break
the hearts of countless families,
where laughter dies for ever,darkness stalks.
Faceless loved ones of the killed,
widows and children uncontrollably cry,
cursing their lives  for this walk through the dark.

Every love life is an invisible bound book,
of many stories of pain, recounted in tearful details,
not easily erased, but much more lives are forgotten,
like cattle killed during long season of celebration,
when people eat, drink, and make merry till they faint,
sleep long hours to sedate their consciousness heavy
with guilt for what they do repeatedly, remorseless.