I choose to see the beauty in people.
I will leave the ugly rhetoric
to the media's narratives.
Can't mess with those stereotypes and comatose generalizations;
that 'fuckery' that steals away common sense from ours and future generations.
You become what you give your attention to.
I spend my divine currency of kindness in loving you.
You are apart of God's divine plan.
He wakes you and me up each and everyday.
In my soul's faith I know that everything will be okay.
This is why I continue to pray.
Because I choose to see the beauty and best in people.
This keeps me upbeat.
Because I try to imagine what God sees in my fellow soul siblings.
And from that cosmic perspective;
I go about my business.
For father God is in charge of each and every plot twist.


(C) copyrighted

A poem about humans respecting each other..

From your very first
Breathe till my last I will for-
Ever love you both

To my boys
MARK RIORDAN Apr 16

CHILDREN ON BUSES ALL
WERE READY TO ESCAPE
INNOCENT SYRIAN CITIZENS LEAVING
BUT A BOMB DID RAPE


OUR CHILDREN WERE STRICKEN DOWN
AND LOOSE THEIR LIVES ONCE MORE
WHY CANT THE VISION OF THESE CHILDREN
CHANGE THE SYRIAN WAR


HOW CAN MAN KIND EXCEPT
THIS MOST HORRIFIC CRIME
OUR CHILDREN ARE OUR FUTURE
PEACE IS NOW THE TIME


IF THE WORLD LEADERS DON'T ACT
AND BRING THE WORLD TO PEACE
THE DEATH OF OUR BELOVED CHILDREN
GLOBALLY WILL ONLY INCREASE

THIS IS THE HARDEST POEM I HAVE COMPOSED. THE WAR ACROSS OUR PLANET AT PRESENT IT DEVASTATING. THE GLOBAL LEADERS HAVE TO DECIDE THAT PEACE IS MORE PRODUCTIVE THAN WAR. STOP KILLING OUR CHILDREN.
Lori Apr 14

my patience cascades down like the drip drip of a leaking
faucet i keep pulling my weight above my head to balance
out the stress my shirt is cropped to my waist a slight raise
of arm is a revelation of a world without questioning the habits
of mind phil-osophy that keeps telling me my thoughts and
experiences need to reach gravity a force unseen and invincible
you think you can let me trace the lines you dotted out for me
challenge the constellation i set out to follow so you can trap me in a box saying think flexibly this is the truth respond
with me in wonderment and awe
since you said to push
your box down a hill take a risk with me responsible
or not you're not allowed to fail but remain open to
continuous learning
think about your mistakes your
backwards thinking some metacognition will do you
good tell it all tattle all to your teacher it's thinking
interdependently
because we value team work and
conformity not individuality and don't worry if it's too
much we are listening watching you **with
understanding and empathy
since you might be
persisting unrelenting to questioning and
problem solving
the loss of our authority see
the art of submission to authority is lost in your
generation that's why journaling the quality of
the habits of your mind is the solution to your lack
of creating, imagining and innovating
in a closed lid box necessity is the mother of invention
after all we are just churning out your land of milk and
honey we are finding humor in this style of learning
a new wave of apathy must be in place or else we
can't teach you thinking and communicating with clarity
and precision
we can't let you allow bias and hesitation
in the way we are striving for accuracy that you be
the student and child society and your parents want you
to be that's why we are gathering data through all senses
on your health to ensure the quality and payoff of their
investment child it's time you learn of applying past
knowledge
we've proven you can't win against our
leader's AshkeNAZI intellect to eradicate the requirement
of the judgement of your own intellect in the form
of repressive anticlimactic required in every subject
unnecessary self confidence destroying
habits of mind journaling

Inspired by the 16 Habits of Mind. You should check it out if you haven't heard it before. It's used in schools. I think it's a good idea with good intentions but they can be taught in a different way rather than picking a few for every subject and asking a student to write their experiences that fit the HOM. But there's a catch, there's a rubric that makes it impossible to get a good grade in something as simple as journaling and sharing your experience.
Demy Molentor Apr 11

Silk is the tent,
woolen is the floor,
Silk dome our teen divas have painted,
Woolen dreams our little fellows have imagined.

And now we are inside,
Just how did we fit.
And our teachers, both sit in the senter.
She plays her ukulele and he watches the fire burn.

The little girls, all so fast asleep.
Pretending to be lost in the funny shadows, so calm.
The little kings, all slowly wander,
Trying to get the older ones to tell stories, curios to know.

And the middle roses, never tired.
They sit in a circle making their flower crowns.
Oh, the middle strangers, always daring.
They play card games chatting in such a low whisper.

and the teen sages, all quiet so much.
Girls hidden in books and boys searching through dreams.
The ukulele is sounding.
The fire is burning.

Oh, moon and wind, both alive.
They both outside, guarding the tent.
Dark are the trees.
Bright are the stars.

finally I made myself put something down and work on it
Beau Scorgie Apr 8

i watch
as little things
become big things.

little things
others might discard.

tiny hands
place wooden eggs
inside empty play dough cups
all in a row.
mummy which ice cream you like?
I smile before answering,
the flower and vitamin c one please
okay good he says.
i place a beeswax crayon
inside tiny hands
in exchange for
my ice cream.

i watch
as he drops
tiny, special things
inside a tiny bag.
a very hungry caterpillar bag.

a wooden tool,
a waterlemon jigsaw piece,
tiny plastic spoon
and empty tic tac boxes.
so many tic tac boxes.

i regret that
i am an impatient woman
and some days forget the beauty
in these little things.

i watch
as he takes sweet breaths
with eyes closed,
through cupid bow lips.
i am reminded
these are not the little things,
but the big things.

if there was one thing,
one big thing,
i could bless him with,
it would be that
he may never
lose his eye
for life's little things
too long.

Genevieve Apr 8

Damaged Goods
Nothing is right,
All is backwards
right side up & upside down.

Damaged Spirit where did I go, I may have Drowned ;
If you have seen me lately please do tell !
Cause at this moment in time I believe I am travelin' through hell!!

Damaged left and Damaged right!!
choosing to go despite the presence of love;
No longer caring of right or wrong
thinking screw it for me it won't be long!
I am the master of my own fate; If I go with you it will be temporarily on my plate,
Until I know you've got permanent love that'll remain in your life forever
and you will make someone a great husband or wife I know,
So even if I am gone one day in the future & it feels like Sooo Long just
know that your mommy and daddy love you
So make us proud as we know
You will.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Be
the
honest
truest to You kind of person
be hard on future mates,
Make them work for your attention
and play "ya can't touch disss!"

So Listen to  me were all damaged inside
The trick is to know what to hide it and when to let
it all hang out and be loud about it or
when to be beyond silent
its all about the know how and timing it now
to receive a reaction that is respecting thee
or being dismissive or just decide to not care at all;
Even though your blood boils and hearts breaking its true
to be always Genuine and Realistic not to live in disquise
or in a blunder because your a mess of sloppy_ass decisions
Leading us to no where land where all the bad apples land eventually
in a river or a ditch so please take a listen and hear this now
" Be the wisest version of what you can be and end each solution with satisfactory!

Just wrote what popped into my head so I suppose this is about parents feeling despair and talking to their child about if they cannot be there for them from life happenings in which ever way that be the point is if your missing your deceased parent try to honor them bye being a kind and good human being..

A poem like this because we often do not talk in this serious of tone usually ignoring it for another day but that just wastes time.
Erin Apr 8

My whole little world sat down on a blanket.
Cushion of grass below.

Happy gaze of their mother had not sank yet.
Feeling the breeze that blows.

Favorite snacks all packed, arrang'd just so.
Smiling eyes excitement.

Small hints of growth, faces are quite chang'd though.
My sweet enlightenment.

Heavy burdens and sorrow bravely carries
Good Mothers do.

Shelter this innocence as it tarries
Showing love true.

Heartstrings so delicate needing tender care
Never to abuse.

Forever I wish to stay there, as then their
Smiling muse

little boy in the streets
little voice in his head
“it’ll be okay,
they’ll come back,” it said

little boy on a train
little hands around bars
every station goes further
every scream lost to stars

little boy told lies
they’ll take him to mum
prying off bony fingers,
nearly left under thumb

little boy meets little girl
her red and torn up skin
the purple 'round her wrist
the fetor of strange men

little boy and little girl
under the bridge they sleep
'till loud voices in nightmares
become reality

little boy taken
worked sunset to sunrise
little girl lost
life and hope gone in his eyes

little boy with fragile body
calloused hands, weakened knees
too young to be broken
lost to slavery

little boy in your backyard
little girl in your school
little children all over the world
what are you going to do?

Peter Balkus Apr 6

Kill me when I'm awake,
not in a sleep.
I want to smell the gas, feel the hit,
I want to touch the blade of death.
I want to know the truth about you and me.

Don't be a coward, don't kill me in a sleep,
it would be too simple for me and for you.
No one would cry for me, no one would call for justice.
New day would come and I would wake up
not remembering a thing.

Kill me, when I'm wide-awake,
If I have no right to live, then I want to have right to know
that I'm dying.
I'm not a child anymore. And you are neither.
You never was, that's why it all,
your madness and my death.

Kill me, when I get up,
look around, make bed.
Or in afternoon. Evening could do too.
But please make sure it's not too early neither too late.

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