Daughters and Brothers:

Please resurge your relations if these nations wither away,
bringing endless vacancy,
as language becomes barren,
the dollar's value deserted,
and Pharaoh's hire hands
baring sharp arrows.
Or were they claws, not caring
to spare their favorite slaves
in pyramids of kings raised in a debased nature,
the same way we feel
we must hold our's sacred?

Yours Truly

P.S: this bs still exists
in fixed, pre-paid paper.

I love the sound
of fresh papers
as they come
crinkling and
crackling out of
the package,

the aroma
of citrus and earth,
sweet smelling grass,

the sensation
of stickiness,
dulled spikes
of fresh stems,

the sight
of red orange flames
lapping up
crisp white paper,
of translucent
gray smoke
whisping
out of the small
opening of a pipe's mouthpiece,

the taste
of wisdom, sage, and ash,
vaporizing my insides,
filling my lungs
and brain
full of poetic fumes;

I love to break
you
down,
roll you up,
set you ablaze,
and
inhale
you,
vaporizing my insides,
filling my heart
and brain
full of poetic fumes.

I love to
get
high
off you;

I don't want
to
ever
get
clean.

Let's
roll
another.

There was a child once
full of  barely hidden laughter and mischief
emotions endlessly poured out and back in
like a tide tasting a new shore for the first time
Where is that child i wonder

there was a traveler once
thirsting for the experience and life seen all around
headfirst diving into the world accepting
fearing nothing and witnessed with wide eyes
where is that traveler i wonder

there was a husband once
overflowing with found shining love
joy swamping easily the baseless fear of loss
proven in horrible perfection in a moment
where is that husband i wonder

there was a father once
completely enamored of a tiny squalling form
filled with a something that could not be defined
until it was gone drained and replaced with horror
where is that father i wonder

there was a lover once
coupled a shy temerity with a respectful tenderness
opening to possible love as a flower to sun
bruised and rejected on occasion though ever hopeful
where is that lover i wonder

there was a soldier once
who stood up with passion for those who could not
heart on the sleeve and thunder on the brow
viewing the world as a problem to be fixed
where is that soldier i wonder

there was a fighter once
who smiled sadly as he fought and killed in the name of money
laughing at the jokes his companions made in desperate tones
as they hid the slowly acidic thoughtful fear of being the bad guys
where is that fighter i wonder

there was a man once
betrayed and broken by this world and his choices
looking back across the memories that swirl and sift
ashes and dust that are all the remains of a once laughing child
and i don't need wonder where that man is.