I pick
her flower
that our
furnace wouldn't
inhibit May
with her
caveat that
this winter
really corners
any merchant
cavities allure    
then made
sweet dear
wine in
Hawaiian orbit
in days
of yore

Who would have known? …by Jessie 10./06

If I had not been born
Who would have known?
Would the sun still have set?
Would the moon still have shown?
Would anyone care, if I were not around?
Would music have had, a much a sweeter sound?
If my print was never laid upon the world
If all of my deeds were never unfurled
Would playgrounds be filled, with children at play?
Would war just simply go away?
Would a cry for help, finely be heard?
Would things like, hate and ****, even be words?
Would laughter have had a soothing effect?
Would all things I said, be even correct?
What if, I had never been born?
And every connection I made had been torn?
The one’s that have laughed
The one’s that have cried
The truths I have told and even the lies
The world has never hinged upon me
But, had I not been born
Would someone have seen?

Being born, you are just there
constantly crying for eating, or for everything in the air
you are constantly loved and cared for,
but you do not need to do the self

being in life, you have grown a lot, gained a bit
earning money, traveling to everywhere, talking bulsh-t
making you wealthy and famous a bit
but at a certain point in life you have to stop, just drop it.

mine poetry I love so much is of all kind
you may like it, love it all this bulsh-t
you may stop reading if too lengthy, just stop it
or pause a while,
then at any momentum, you may rewind
all the words that you have in mind
yeah, mine poetry is of this kind
adorable, many minuses and yet sublime

how simple the words, is oft thought-provoking
thinking about those words causes mind aching
mine poetry is for pleasure to treasure
and never for heartbreaking

who says if I say simple words
that you regard them simple too, that´s absurd
since these simple words in mine poetry
are seldom a brevity but oft a lengthy
lengthy makes most thought-provoking
added,  some with a wit and some with a tragedy

"Condemn Thee"


How do i not condemn thee i must learn
The path less traveled, gift discerned. The teacher
Is the teaching born experience, natal
Bloom of sentientness, ego mes worn
Atop the emptiness. A heightened mind?
A phrase, no more, the conscious realm dimensionless
Mother-Father-Child, breathing universe.