Love, taken in.. on the inside--

Deep into the tummy
makes all things possible.
You are now feeling the dream.
You know very well,  within
your unlied-to  core,

  that you are more than enough.

It is your gorgeous flesh
that still carries  within you
the residual, dark shame
of the (unfairly placed into you),  lie.

You are enough to be the dream
within someone's fullness of dreams..

Mine.  You are beautiful.

Entrusted with sovereignty they set sail,
Prepared to face the threats that lie beyond the horizon,
Responders to the call of the weary are they who defend our fortress,
Mystics and heroines hoisted to battle at the drop of a flag,
An alliance to marvel by all in the land,
Legends are they whose sacrifices sustain our livelihood,
Its power vested in communion.

If the world was a stage and I was a play-write:

The wind: It was a musician, the muse of a heartbeat and whistling was its charm.

The leaves: The companions of the wind, they were the strings of the guitar. Dancing towards oblivion.

The flowers: They were the painters. A vision was their purpose. They played with colours and mystery.

The sun: It was the stage light, as it glowed upon the sounds of music in the air, the surface of the leaves, and gave life to all the trees.

The stars: They were the show stoppers, dancing in the sky. Revelling in the attention from the eyes of the observer.

The moon: The shy wonder of the night, sometimes barely visible. As it timidly sets the stage for another afternoon.

And lastly,

You: With a thousand stories to tell you’re in thousands of places at once. Looking for mountains to climb and things to design. You’re curious and too quick, never on the stage but merely an observer, but secretly you’re the whole show.


There are a thousand stories to tell,
So I’ll tell you a secret to this mysterious show
The script is blank, the pages clear white
And every minute new words appear
For I am merely following sentimental alliances
Just an observer watching as the future becomes clear.

A wise man once said:
“Wrong life cannot
Be lived rightly” [1]
Many become aware of
This fact, but rather than
Taking action, they instead
Resign themselves, to
Hopelessness and despair,
As doubt rears its ugly head,
Asking: “what can one person do?”
All the while, neglecting the fact
That this world overflows with
People who are just like they are,
Each of them “just” one, and
Each alone bearing the same burden,
Indeed, on the back of “just” one,
This burden is crushingly heavy, but
On the backs of many, it becomes
Lighter than a fallen leaf
Adrift in the autumn breeze.

Despicability is the foundation to their life
For them it is intrinsic
Genetically encoded
Simplistic
Poetically eroded
Reprehensible at best

     Unscrupulously callous
     Secrets and facts, they conveniently
     ingest
     Distorted byproducts, they release to the
     masses
     To aid their campaign; a forked tongue
     fest

Pathetic and unapologetic
A beast armed to the teeth
Imported bypasses to increase the flow of police
A weakness and an act,
They so vehemently attest

     Harvesting greens off the branches of
     the people
     Pockets engorged with wads and folds
     Crushing blue collars at the lower levels
     As they sit atop their pyramids of gold

Today they sip champagne
To celebrate their reign
Tonight we'll skip being humane
To feed them excruciating pain

     You've incited this coup with ill-thought
     deterrents
     Now herald the arrival of the scourge
     Down with lopsided governments
     Tonight... All we would topple! Tonight we purge!

Justin G
ryn