Will  daffodils dance near a lake?
Will Heaven still do battle with Hell?
Will you have an NHL?
Will a woman still count the ways she loves?
Will man have his place in love?
Will hawks replace the release of doves?
Noble savages won't be your theme;
Nor Idols leading  on the silver screen.
What happens if you can't dream
On starry, dark or moon-filled nights,
Where waves lap endlessly on your shore.

So many times
I fell behind  
And my fears
Got the best of me.  

Caught by surprise              
In your looking-glass
Eyes
I locked into                          
Blew my mind--                    
I was not of your kind.  

But I still stayed                             By your side                        
There to guide  
My steps everyday                            
In every way;  
Trapped inside the
Obligation to stay.  

I thought you were
My friend;    
I had to pretend
To fool myself into
Believing in you.  

Caught in your lies,               
Hid behind your      
Disguise  
That you built up                    
Through the night--      
Nocturnal sight.  

You destroy             
Those you cannot
Pay;         
But those you've
Betrayed  
Now have better
sight,  
Brighter light,  
Slowly building up
The  
Strength to fight.  

And of all the
promises       
That you break,  
You justify by the
Laws               
Of give and take.  

These political and
Social              
Fault lines in the
Minds                
Of many, undermine  
Highlights--now the  
Cultural and structural  
Twilight--

The ancient                             
Disconnect between                    
The power elite  
And the people on the
Level of the street--     

Leading to higher
Levels
Of political and              
Social Chameleonic         Descent;  
Left wondering                  
Where our       
Idealistic & democratic               Societies went.          

So, as we watch  
Many of the global
Power elite  
Play their games
Of hide & seek                          
Behind           
The weight of policy--
That higher degree of                      Moral, political                    
And social leprosy--

You'll look for us,                     
But we'll be gone.

Sitting alone at home
In the eerie glow of our
Phone or watching the
World through our TV.
We may or may not care
Because we know we're
not there, but what will
We do when we will be!

But the answer can't
Always be "I'll face it
Only when it eclipses me"
Because we must be
Wide awake and stay
Awake in our research
And engagement with
Others at stake to
Understand the various
Levels of hate so we
Can be effective when
Faced with it head-on!

I overflow, I absorb,
I push, I retreat — and then
I pour it out.
I gave myself names,
So, I took on forms,
Types, meanings,
Traits I had never worn before —
Unlikely mutations.
The end was
The Beginning of Everything.

II
I materialized,
Threading time and space onto myself.
I exploded,
Giving birth and dying —
In multiverses.

III
I budded through fractals,
Creating illogical gravities.
Where there was supposed to be no life —
Angular feelings emerged,
Flattened stars,
Ellipsoidal planets...

Until Human Beings appeared.

IV
Then everything changed.
They began to put me in boxes
Shouting with anger:
“My Faith!”
“Your Philosophy!”

And yet I am everything:
Existence in non-existence,
A colorful flash,
Undulating silence,
A sigh that screams.

V
Drink me,
Eat me piece by piece,
Discover me — but don't defend yourself
Against denial,
Consequences
And mistakes
When you see a wall in front of you.

VI
Don't take yourself away —
Because YOU ARE
Also, in that
In which you sink

Your Gaze

Your Hearing

Your Thoughts.

It was not the beast alone
that hollowed the soul,
but the silence
that made a chamber for it.

The silence of fathers
who looked away.
The silence of mothers
who smoothed the tablecloth
and spoke of other things.
The silence of friends
who chose comfort
over confrontation.

Every unspoken word
became a shroud.
Every careful pause
became a nail.
Every smile that denied
became another grave.

The beast feasted,
not only on wounds inflicted,
but on truths unspoken,
on the complicity
of quiet mouths.

And so silence
killed more surely than rage,
for rage at least
named what was broken,

but silence gave it a home.

The deadliest weapon
that lays in the hands
    of Death  itself
    is not the sword;

but the silence sharpened
     against the soul.