The mountains stand like giant ghosts behind the shore,
The buildings trap the sand
Their electric lights such vigilants of the sea
Motorbikes as little dispatchment troops
Cars parked as sleeping cops.

The buildings, so aware of the sea,
Forget the glory of rocky tall ghosts from beyond,
Their valleys turned shopping malls and residential areas.

Maduro keeps Chávez's tyranny
                           own people's blood is deemed success,
Putin keeps shaking Trump's hand,
Japan is joining the dispute
While N. Korea plays cowboys' toys in its corner
                             cornering citizens,

'Terrorists' keep making the headlines
Yet, journalists are the ones spreading terror,

I just want to eat my hazelnut müesli satisfied
And turning the TV off won't help much.

Nurturing holy Mother why don't you stand
                                          for your fallen brethren,
                                                                     burned
                                                                     choped in half
                                                                     disposed of their prideful height?

You seem to wait, though it's not patience you have.
It's sure,
You have it all sought and won
You don't seek
                  We do foolishly,
                  trying to transform you but in the end,

In the end you rise imponent
                           your majestocity as phoenix among ashes...
...our ashes.

I'm a man of the night
I've been branded
My poetry serves no purpose to the world.
I've not been branded a hero,
I've'd seen how those all end:
                    Unquestionable statues of bronze or gold
                  or rather forgotten,
              disposed after 2 weeks of fame after-death.
I want neither.
I'm no hero, no. I'm no gigantic bearded poet
                                         Hemingway shot himself
                                                         ­       I couldn't muster courage
                                         or decandence.

I. made. to.
               Stand.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Serving my servers.
Out of love.
I carry. As they carry.
              as I get. Carried.
As one shelters me this moment;
As other. Eloquent. Frightening. Dashing and Proud.
                 as she said;
                 titles are in fact...

Humans are capable of the biggest hypocritical ideas.
They don't do it on purpose
Yet we do it.

Some love others more than they love themselves.
Well, I believed I also did
Yet it is not quiet so.

Think well about it, I love until I bleed and even more after that!
Well, I believe in love more than most do
Yet, should I quit my dreams for it, should you?

                               Would I blow my brains out, would you?
                               Is this even a question you're allowed to make?

I believe, I've learn, I've seen
And love is learning to love another by learning to love yourself,
Love is synching your dreams with others' dreams,
Love is bending and straining to reach out to the other,
                                                      to share the pain
                                                      to lick the bruises
                                                      to laugh whole in harmony because you found IT
                                                      to be insane but never feel suicidal.

To love is to burn together
Not to blow apart for one another.

People have no idea what they are dealing with,
People don't know and don't want to know
What truly surrounds them,
                                If they did
                                They'd wish they wouldn't know.
                                They want a quiet life
                                A bread on the table
                                And cable TV.

Thing is, people are not themselves.
People were taught to be people by people who were manipulated and made people
                                                                            by people who didn't know what they were,
People look at a baby
And worry more of making him a 'people' of their own
Than to ask:
'Who are you?'

If I don' live
What am I gonna die for?
Bread?