I want to see the Earth
for what it truly is.
To observe humanity,
as we have observed ourselves for generations,
through all of time,
so that I may truly understand what it means to be me.

I wish to see ourselves
as we truly are.
To see our cities and nations
as functioning aspects
Of a single society,
the entity that is the world.

Not as worlds in their own rights,
conflicting from the dawn of civilization
to the end of time.
Not as we are now,
Fighting with hate when we should be
communicating with admiration.

I choose to understand our differences
rather than argue them
or worse yet, ignore them.
What could be done,
In a world where we
at least try to understand.

Humanity’s biggest flaw
is humanity itself,
and yet it is our greatest asset.
Look at this place that we have built;
and imagine what we could do
if we do it together.

The shades are drawn in endless daylight, begging the night to fall yet loathing the months of night that will too soon follow these endless months of days.  Sleep does not come swiftly as feet twitch restlessly under cool sheets. The mind relives peaceful mornings by the creek with fishing rods in hand ******* on lollipops and skipping stones. Stones that for others seem to float on the surface, yet, thrown by my young hand sank like the rocks that they were. click, click, click, the beads of the abacus counting time in my dreamlike wannabe state. The beep of the microwave oven jars the mind and the scent of coffee wakes the brain, only to realize it was the sound of the alarm clock and the cupboard does not hold the coffee so loved in dreams yet detested in reality. The solitude of morning, which looks like evening, which looks like night tastes like rotten onions in the mouth you struggle eat with. Remnants of equestrian dreams linger in a hazy head pounding like a basketball across the the court. The lampshade is covered in a purple scarf, giving off just enough light to not have to open the shades.  

Day begins with a gargle of mouthwash that tastes like Campho Phenique

hoping to get rid of the residue of rotten onion dreams that remind you of a life you never thought you'd live.

No matter how lost I am
You always guide me home.

Far long before your conception,
Have we cast our spirit around this territory,
Even the wind trembles at the sound of our voice.
The oceans and seas tell of our temperature,
All creatures here shriek
When the earth cries at the sound of our footfall.

We are the aged heroes,
The foundations of the universe,
We are people without season,
As the dust of countless ages so we are!
From the wake of time,
The era of darkness without shape,
From the voidless earth we carved our residence,
With golds of woods,
Bronze of grasses upon diamond field.

We are the lived before re-incarnation,
We are the foundations of your buildings,
Bearers of your surviving grace,
we are all time universal heroes,
People without season
The Indigens of the Earth.

"Poetry doesn't have to rhyme, it just has to touch someone where your hands couldnt."

-Rudy Akbarian

I missed my hello poetry family.
I've been on a roller coaster ride recently. Figuratively speaking.  It's time to get back to what and who I love. I love hello poetry and my extended family. Your poetry and insightful words brighten my day. You give me strength and courage to move forward everyday. I am honored to be in such an elite group of poets.
My life is richer because of all of you and I just wanted you to know I appreciate you all