for I ate all my peas,
minded my masters at school,
then learned to march manly,
and straight

to these trenches
that surely are maps of hell;
if there be such a place
beyond here

in this dead, grey pasture,
pocked by shells, and body parts
strewn about like pieces of a puzzle
that don't fit

Father said go, make England
proud, but I know you would not wish
this fate for me, or any of the children hiding
in these pits, waiting for the command

to become fodder for the Gatling gun,
the cannon; you would shed cataracts
of tears for all of us, if ghosts above
yet weep for the living

the ****** who will soon join you,
though none know when; surely you
will hear me cry your name, the way I have
seen them all do, with their last breath

There is a day when dreams are
Exiled, left to waste away --
The dry sands of tomorrow.
Magnificent dreams,
Too daring, ambitious, demanding,
Cast aside, in hopes that they’ll
Flourish on their own.
We’ll dream once more…
Tomorrow

There is a day when opportunities
Are swallowed by the tides,
And sink to fathomless trenches
Never to be seen again,
For there might be another one…
Tomorrow.

There is a day when unspoken words
With the potential to change a life sit
In one’s tongue, embittering over time,
Since someone else will speak them…
Tomorrow.

There is a day when the Earth will perish
By exploitive and negligent hands.
We were all aware of what was to come,
So let us amend our ways...
Tomorrow.

Somethings simply just cannot wait.
Perhaps tomorrow is a day too late.

i've spent a lot of time on this planet
watching these creatures who inhabit
they say god made it, and it's granted
god won't be the one to **** it

for every gun there's someone to man it
flies with barrels aimed at maggots
they build a fire, then they fan it
flames pull them in like a magnet

they **** each other, and they even plan it
on this planet where i have landed
mankind are the ones wreaking havoc
it's hard for me to understand it

Like an alien in a spotlight
With her magnifying glasses on
My mother as she worked, up all night
Did invisible weaving till dawn

I would watch her when I couldn’t sleep
Honing in on that hole in the suit
Intently, her concentration deep
Weaving tiny threads enlarged like jute

In other-worldly light she labored
I was afraid she’d lose her eyesight
Watching her focus never wavered
Her face all aglow in the lamplight

Invisible weaving, I inquired
How tediously she plied her craft
Worked for the money that she required
Made the warp and weft of fabric last

Reconstruction, undetectable
No more burn, or tear, or fabric blight
Weaving magic so incredible
Its wound now perfect by morning’s light

She taught me much that I'm still making
From her life that now I'm grieving
Sewing, crocheting and great baking
But never invisible weaving

The picture of her life that mattered
I now see how she toiled so finely
And that the wrinkles in the fabric
Of my own life splayed out so blindly

The vision of my eyes bedazzled
Incandescent, her face in the beam
Unaware how her mind unraveled
As depression stole her ev'ry dream

The threads of DNA defining
Who I’ve become I'm now believing
My mother’s hand in that designing
Of my own Invisible Weaving

Hist please as speechless seas
For the wind sometimes touch you
But you're senseless

Can't you feel the warmth that one stranger want to share?
He wants to be your fellow
But your eyes seems don't care

The first time you glimpse at his soul
It seems you've seen an ugly beast
To whom you hated it as fatally snake

Can't you see the beauty that can't be seen by thine eyes?
He wants to be a friend
But your heart as cold as ice

To queen of night you promise that your judgement equal
Your prayers and words means a helping hand
Swear the world that your love profound

But can't you hear the pulse of his heart?
He wants justice
But you give lies that he was the doer of the crime

Here I stand in the midst of chaos
To my left, the wind, that eyewitness the crime
The wind care and its love genuine

The wind sheds tears so do I as we look up the sky
And I shouted "My Lord, give wind a tongue."
Then again, "My Lord, give wind a tongue."


written: Aug. 17, 2000

Mysterious Aries

Enveloped in this casket of riddled
Darkness, eyes are the only source
Of white, I scratch at them myself.

Extinguish the beckoning light , I
am gorged on the blanket that
covers me, it caresses thoughts

I am entwined in this place inside,
My mind is a web of onyx capturing
Thoughts corroded and entrapped.

I've been gone
for long
thinking about tales
living lies
aches

I've brought you stories
of
escalating hurt
unspoken words
transparent shadows

bear with me
while I shade some of these
bare truths

us humans
who love to see the desperate
cling to these fragile life

us humans
who've grown used to horror
you think there is no other way

us humans
who seek freedom
to commit mistakes,
sometimes we don't have a choice
and sometimes we do

us humans
extremely, afraid of death
who do you turn to
when the night is at its darkest