when the bird is living,
the bird eats the worm

when the bird is dead,
the worm eats the bird

Stronger than waves crashing
Stronger than stone
Stronger than the stars that light
up the sky
Cataclysmic volcanic energy
is your might
Your strength to lead us
just as strong
As was your strength to decide
to willingly give
up your human existence
Providing us
Hope for everlasting life

I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.

They plant their bombs,

On paths that lead the way,

destroying anything or anyone,

who stops them ruling the day.

Telling the young they will be heroes,

If they throw their lives away,

Yet they hide behind closed doors,

Never participating in what they say.

We all write about loneliness
And we all can empathize
But it is as unique to each of us as is a snowflake

It causes us all to ache
From a place in our soul that doesn't recognize the light of day
We wrap it up and keep it safe as our personal dossier

Colorless skies and lack luster eyes
We all seek the spectacular
Shooting stars, full moons and the first taste of champagne

We have been there, done that but don't seem to be able to hang on
We all want the same thing
To Love, to be loved and most of all to belong

Loneliness is such a complex experience
Existing even when surrounded by brilliance
Regardless if you are in a marriage, relationships, families and successful career.

At the end of the day,  it's a social and physical pain we all seem to be able to endure

Let's ban poetry because it
Heals wounds without prescription,
Break borders without permission,
Adds beauty without makeup,
With words all so made up!

1. Don't look at her like she's a victim, like she's weak. Don't look at her like she's incapable of living a normal life again.

#2. Go easy with her. Don't treat her like she's some destroyed thing, but handle physical contact with caution. Watch very carefully for signs that she's feeling anxious, or that her head has turned off and made her numb. Watch for reactions, for a look in her eyes. If she has blanked out, stop. How well do you know your girl? Does she want to be held and have her hair stroked and hand held while you both remind her that she is safe with you, that you would never violate her? Does she need you to sit back and make sure she can see you clearly? What she needs defines physical moments.

#3. Don't force her to talk about it. She will tell you what she is ready to tell you, when she is ready to tell you. It is hard to tell your partner that you've been made into a survivor. Do not ask for details before she is ready, and do not look at her like she has been tainted because hands made of greed and hatred touched her, scarred her. She is still herself.

#4. Listen. Listen well. Do not do anything without a yes. An absolute yes. She must say it and mean it and look like she means it. Do not coerce her. She has been coerced before. And taking no away makes yes meaningless. Coercing is begging, pleading, pestering, threatening, intimidating. Coercing is holding her captive and not letting her go until she gives you what you want. Do not coerce her, because you have then assaulted her.

#5. Being coerced into ****** activity can be as violating as being held down and *****. Because they made her go along with it to avoid greater pain, because they made her feel like she had no other choices. Because they pressured her until she broke, until she stopped resisting and just remained passive and silent as they did what they wished. Please, do not ever make her say no twice.

#6. Do not belittle her pain, do not compare it to another survivors. Do not call one survivors pain worse than the other, because you are hurting and silencing them with your own, ignorant opinion. You do not feel her pain, the pain all survivors feel. You are not making her feel better by reminding her it could have been "worse." You are minimalizing her own battle.

#7. Love her. Love her however she needs to be loved.

#8. Be patient. Healing takes time. Be her support beam, her hand to hold. Be there when she is having flashbacks. Be there when she is screaming and crying and scrubbing herself ****** in the shower. Be there with a soft blanket and open ears and an open heart. Be there to remind her she is not *****, she is not filthy or disgusting. Remind her she isn't less in your eyes.

#9. Sometimes, you will need to explain to her that she is perfect to you. Because she will stare at her body in the mirror and remember it was touched by filthy hands and feel unworthy of you. Remind her she is worthy, she is worth it. Remind her that those hands were not controlled by her, that she was not at fault. That she does not bear the sins of another person.

#10. Do not try to make her report it. Because she will have to face him that way, in front of a jury of people who has been given the job of judging them. She will be torn down by his lawyer, painted to sound like a **** and a liar, and the **** will be painted into something consensual and enjoyed by both parties, instead of just one. If she was coerced they will try to make her lack of no a valid yes, or worse. They will make her sound like she is asking for it. If her ****** succeeds, he will make her feel violated all over again in court. He may not go to prison. He may be found not guilty, because there wasn't enough evidence to prove he did it or because the jury decided a lack of a no was a yes or that she was at fault for not standing her ground under hours of pressure and intimidation and being held a captive against her will. The **** will cease to happen in the eyes of the law and she will be left raw and aching, a girl deemed crazy because a man committed a crime against her body, her mind, her soul. She is afraid to testify for a reason, but if she does, hold her up. Because the world will feel as though it is collapsing around her as she does it.

They'll use Martin Luther King day to sell anything from mattresses to cars.
Even he has been ripped up and replanted,
capitalized, like Christmas or Easter,
by the people who give us images of a white Jesus,
but you bet they don't pay everyone equal.
We have boulevards, schools, and libraries named after King,
but streets over, we have Confederate soldiers carved into a mountain,
we call 'em heroes, that's what I was taught,
the ones who fought, the ones who ate lead,
But, they aren't talking about who really put a bullet in Dr. King's head.
What the **** is wrong with us?
America will go see Selma in millions,
this weekend, go back home to their all white neighborhoods,
thinking about how it was bad then, but now, it's all good.
Who are we really trying to fool?
Stand up for the pledge in school
Put your hand over your heart and forget
all this country denies you
telling you that there isn't a heart of a human beating inside you
because you're gay, you're black, you're not like that,
She was a flirt, she wore a short skirt,
Every day you try to heal the hurt
Justice for all? Like are you kidding me?
There ain't such a thing here as liberty
Do you know where you stand
was Native American land?
Ripped from their bleeding hands
And don't even get me started on Iraq and Iran.
You know that mountaintop?
The one I was talking about,
Did they tell you it was a KKK meeting spot?
Bet not.
I wonder, is the clay here red from all the blood?
We hide our history,
sing promises of liberty,
say that racism ended with slavery,
and it's Stonewall Jackson, he's a hero, they say
but never speak of Stonewall Riots any day
and I'm afraid for our children and what they will learn,
in classrooms, will they be silenced?
Come here kids, let me tell you a story,
of Ferguson, New York, Hong Kong,
about how people will look back and see they were wrong,
But some never did, some died with hatred,
some died because of it,
Let me tell you about homeless LGBT youth
Let me tell you about all these issues
Let me tell you the truth
And there are different ways of seeing it,
but only one way to say it,
you and I both know,
You just have to listen for it.

the seven his assertion
of inspired transgression
over a world wrought with weakness.

by binary adjustment an
image to
program vanity’s conformity.
youth poisoned,
a child’s self-worth corrupted,
advertisement’s teaching destructive.

a conglomerate’s ambition—its
fruition; *******,
giving birth to
a blanket of poverty—
a blanket of
laced infection to
stave the cold of squalor’s tribulation,
while old money
flaunts its fanciful garment of dust.

the ******* of human nature
guiding the hands of men.
women, children—
the victims made slaves to
the flesh of another,
living as shades of potential,
suffering the abuse of
disgusting existential.

pounds of grain
producing pound of cattle.
stores of meat kept spilling to waste,
a carnivorous diets’ diversity
an obese symbol of currency.
ingestion a hobby,
an identity, meanwhile
the faceless scavenge;
suffering sustenance scarcity.

an abuse of a system—
its purpose to
help those in catastrophism.
a righteous gift
bled dry by those capable,
them unwilling to provide;
tarnishing validity of
those deserving of
goodness’ generosity.
a cause for uncertainty and
a deflated right hand economy.

cruel acts
rarely noble in purpose,
the darkest notions of man in
revenge do surface.
chilling reminders of
what used to be—
but has never changed
since this dawn’s reign.
reminders of man’s gruesome nature,
painting battered cities
crimson, stained memories provoking
perpetual cruelty.

an age deemed—
enlightenment,
in a world unchanged.
by arrogance of the aforementioned,
our heads
buried in the sands of self-deception.
a falsified claim to reign–
this race,
creation’s self appointed kings;
demand to see but
refuse to witness our own
hideous reflection.

by them his assertion
of inspired transgression
over a world wrought with weakness;
the seven—his market list.
humanity,
long since infant breath,
something to deplore;
leaving no shortage of souls
in the devil’s department store.