This is the ** Manifesto, let's pray,
What is the first rule to say?
Never volunteer today!
What is the next rule to say?
Rest up while you can each day!
What is the third rule to say?
Any love is good love at our age!
What is  the fourth rule to say?
Say: Never mind, blip happens always!
What is the fifth rule to say?
Kafka, you're fabulous today!
What is the sixth rule to say?
I must not participate this day!
This is the ** Manifesto!
Read and learn, now off you go!!

the body of water that lay still and silent
.
the atmosphere around so coherent to sound
Like the flower of ideas
Threatens to bloom

then struck light so loud and bold they embrace
and unfolds to incredible wondrous works
Entrance
life began living ....taking new breath

then past ,present and future
And infinity made
.
#standstill

I am
A paradox
An endless code
A puzzle with missing pieces
But unlike any riddle,
I have no answer
I am not to be solved
I only require the effort of trying to be cracked down
All I need is some indication of interest

Poets are word canaries
prepared to die in dark, airless places.
Poets are sharp sirens
alert, alarmed and warning of the firestorm.

Poets can read
tree bark calligraphy of knots and scars.
Poets decipher codes
and shrewd puzzles, bold and enigmatic.

Poets ignore the talk of Angels
their prophecies and broken promises
Poets turn over Tarot cards
lay out rune stones, fearless of the future.

Poets steer clear
of treasure, jewels and golden ingots.
Poets climb ladders
and stairways cut in rock and stone.

Poets can see beyond
apple blossom, lilac blooms and dead lilies.
Poets find the past
in patterns of stars and the orbit of comets.

Poets lick salt
relishing the wounds and tears.
Poets throw life-belts
wreaths onto empty oceans.

Poets split existence
into life and death with nothing between.
Poets sift ashes
and sand for the rough edges of infinity.

"it's going to be your fault" she said.
"what?" I replied.
"your predestined choice of forced molestation,
that wish you don't comply."

"what you wear is not good,
the amount of all the skin.
one man might get the urge to look and then pull you in.
the slit in your back,
it gives skin no place to hide.  
it will make him think,
'mm, she must be mine'.
your skirt is very short,
it will surly pull him in.
and he'll say these truthful statements,
while he does his deeds.
you need to think about your clothes
or you'll be begging on your knees."

as I stand there drowning,
in her morbid a words.
the thought came into my head
and then I got the urge.

I said right back,
"you say I must be asking for it?
if it happens, it's my fault.
his natural state is predator,
and his instinct is assault.
you say, my outfit speaks more than my words.
and you're surley right.
I wore these clothes because its hot,
I will stay comfortable through the night.
but not to them,
they think it gives them the right.
the right to say foul words.
'hey ****', 'that ***', 'i bet you could get *****'
these slurs of great disgust,
you say are mistakened for flirting.
once he sees some skin, you say
he'll no longer have a choice.
once he sees what he wants
he'll surley make his point.
now, don't tell me not to get *****
or to avoid a man.
tell the men to control their urges than to let it control them."

Like constellations of rural skies
Eluding and forlorn
Longing to connect the dots
to which I could adorn
Secrets of Da Vinci
Deceptive and unknown
Wanting to explore regions
but only to bemoan
Storms of Zeus' power
terrify and maim
introvert explorers
who've fought and overcame
The sole subjects stands
unspoken or indifferent
Withstanding these decoders
To which he won't imprint