It's a simple poem represented in a conversation between a stranger and an ordinary man .
The stranger went to the man's house ...

Ting, tong, ting, tong
Man : who's there ?
Str : sorry for interruption
One of the people is here !
Man : what do u need, sir ?
Str : I'm carrying you a message
an experience from the life I want to share
      --Tik, Tok
Man : here u are ..
Str : thanks
Man : so, tell me more ..
Str : oh! That planet out there ..
Looks beautiful from here !
Man : yes, it's marvellous
Based on what I hear
Filling of cozy atmosphere
Full of happiness and relaxation
Besides, it's a place where there is no fear
Str : hahahahaha , u made me laugh
What else did u hear ?
Man : Um.. I heard it's a place
where dreams can be real
And the people there, have machines
That drive them anywhere
Only what they have to do is
To say : drive me there !
Str : fine but ..
I was waiting a question like " where " ?
Where did I come from before getting to here ?
Man : Whoa whoa whoa , who r u ?
Str : just calm down !
I'm one of the people who lived in that planet, sir !
Your speech was rather meaningful !
But that planet there isn't that wonderful !
If u want to go there,
Don't spend a lot of time to think
All u need is just to abandon couple of things !
First , ur heart and humanity
And just about any thing makes u feel
To end up exactly like a beast
Vanging all the meal
Then, seek for things that appeal
Villas, cars , wives and fame !
--- giggling for few seconds ---
-----Remembering that shame ----
Do u know what thing I blame ?
Letting my conscience to be killed
to be like an animal needs to be tamed !

You love what you love.
When you want to love it.
For as long as you want to love it.
You are who you are.
You are forever unique.
You are literally a miracle.
This is beautiful.
You are free to love.
Free to be you.
Most are normal,
But some are lucky.
Some of us get to be weird.
And sometimes it's hard to be weird,
Normal people don't get it.
Why poetry can raise the hair on your neck,
Why a math problem makes you smile,
Why the little moments in life str the biggest.
And even though most people think weird people are well weird,
They are wrong,
Weird is lovey.
And weirdness is spreading,
Because being weird is a blessing,

I
a flicker of warm light
and your face is all that I see.
Thunderclouds are silenced,
burned away and
my chest is left open to
our place under the opal sky.
The light is our soft romance
and our candlelit meal for two...

II
'Spiritui Sancto'
A Benedictine Monk
alone in
cold stone chambers sees
an ascending soul,
holy company,
a solitary light in all the
emptiness.
'Sed libera nos a malo'

III
Scorch-marks
drip
love - bites
drip
but please don't stop...
drip
In his lust,
Mould moments of my skin
and keep them
forever.

V
'Waxy fingertips!'
'Put that down,
PUT THAT DOWN!'
Mum told us
If you play with fire
you're going to get burned.

V
30 miles
they say
is the mathematical distance
you can see a flame in the dark

VI
This is the symbol of our nation.
'Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit'
This nine branched lamp symbolizes that our Israel.
has courage, those may be their Qassam rockets,
but those are our sirens.
and that humming you hear is our drones
over their heads.

VII
buuuuzzzzzzzzzz
What enchanting light...
zzzzzzzzz
what God are you? Oh
zzzzzzzzzzzz
wondrous beauty
zzzzz
what magic do you hold, what glory...
zzzzzzzzzz
come closer str.....

VIII
What died so I could read?
The tallow is a pig
the squealing embers
fat pig.

IX
here comes the candle to light you to bed,
And I curled, vulnerable to the shapes in the window
with my feet creeping further under the duvet.
The shadows were melted, cut, distorted on
my bedroom walls.
A primal evil will danced by the light of the flame
until I shut my eyes so tight,
that I slept it away.
here comes the chopper to chop off your head.

X
'No Jennifer, I just feel candlelight just adds a certain

ambiancé

to a room

No?'

XI
'Quickly, before it turns septic.'
'This wont hurt boy'
'The fire, pass the fire'
'Quarterise it quick or he won't last long'
'bite down hard my lad, bite down hard'
'AHHHHHRRRGGGGHHHH'

XII
Children hurtle down,
a Bombay slum to hear that.
'King Rama has returned,
light his path!'
The open sewers adorned in Ghee lamps
find such intense beauty as each quivering flame,
although so fragile, breathes the story
of the power of human spirit
unshakable against overwhelming odds.
*'The King of Ayodhya
Has Returned
Show his path for the Festival of Light!'