I studied much science, then shifted to art
That presented theater to me
I shifted to history, why do we fight?
No effects are without cause
What is the source of war?

How does humanity have religion?
Where is the basis of our decisions?
Our complications, observations, & nations?

I look to the sky.
It is always beautiful.  It is undeniable.
I know people like facts. I love them.

Logic entangled with emotion..
We walk through risk's rosy brambles..
We often end up in shambles..

Survival..
It became luck, morality, and intelligence..
You call it common sense..

It is ironic how uncommon it has become
We laugh and smile but..

Too many live numb..

Feeling when we're young, fading with time
Into our beloved, imagined normality..
You call it typical life..

I call it insanity..

Simply because evidence proves it to be..

Don't be mad at me
I'm not mad at you..

I just can't understand..
Why you wouldn't want to understand..

We say science helps humanity..
So is it confirmation bias?
Where does our fear come from?

You want peace but help to end it..
We're only different because we lied..
To mirrors..
Then judged others..
Our money as a glue for a fatal game of fate..

It is not my place to judge you
You are you and I am always only me..
You say you want equality
We say we love democracy..

Why then does Earth.. A pale blue dot..
Help itself to its own death?

The truth is simple
It is simple because it is facts and logic
It is also never perfectly obtainable

Call it Heaven or the universe..
Either way..
Mysteries are infinite..

Nature is a woman of secrets
Time is a man of faith and honor

We really would benefit from listening..
To our parents.. To our God or no God..
Our Gods and Goddesses or their absence..
To our imaginative possibilities..

I will never hate humanity
I will never judge you

But..

I will call you out when you act crazy
When you nurture insanity..

We are human but not very humane
That is the reality

I only will ask you one question..

I want to breach into your secrets..
I want to define your theaters of war..

I want to find conflict's source..

The truth is often scary
It will still set its seekers free..
If we are more than few.. It can do that..
More and more quickly..

What we're doing never worked
Survival and peace calls for something new..

I think of pure truth..
How it can be scary and still save lives..

So.. here is my question to humanity..

Why Are You Afraid?

Think
You are in an empty room.
Nobody anywhere
And the world, it's empty

Slowly,
Descend the stairs
Look at the stars
The snow covered firs
A vision says hi

Now return
Open a book
Drink some water
And sit & sit & sit
And think & think & think
Why are you reading this poem
When you could be changing the world

I'm just another flower
In this flower field
We are all different, unique
We start out weak
And reach our peak
And wilt when we find what we seek
We are so different in so many ways
Yet we are all nurtured by the suns rays
We've had many good days
Some of us end up as bouquets
Making people happy
But ourselves, are unhappy
Some make each other sad
And some make each other glad
And me? I'm just another flower
Passing through life, might I add

Thyself or Myself.
Selflove or Selfcare.
Eating or consumption.
Redemption or Vindication.
Self-conscious or Self-aware.
Sounds same,
Yet vastly different!
Or might I say diverse?

She always had an opinion

About the men she choose to entertain.

For her I’m one in a million

In her diary, I fit the description.

However; she can’t help but continue to

Run back to the villain who caused her pain

Because that’s the only man she’ll listen to.

She’s well educated, sophisticated, & independent

Yet, highly brilliant in being ignorant in choices.

A slave to her own prison

Who knows no boundaries to the poor decisions

Being made or how it’ll affect her condition.

Causing separation from soul to flesh or

Flesh to soul that’ll keep her head spinning

Minute after minute.

Eventually, those diary standards will vanish.

She will lose sight in that vision.

And that man [who’s me] will be re-wrapped

Like a gift, given to a new woman

Who will treat me like I’m her one in a million.