My name is something lost then found
Screamed by one of the greatest mind
Both a mystery and accomplishment
Under the water I was made
Told of cultures that is ignored then found again
Willing to keep everything alive
Art is something daily seen
Yet heard and also feel
Mathematics that hides within the depth
In the naked eye you can't possess
Innovating it makes us closer to each other
With less words connects us to one another




Hint: My name is hidden

02/01/25
The new moon looking down,
Peacefully and motherly,
Observing,
unaware of her beauty,
With her loyal bright subject shining nearby,
The weak lights below twinkling with envy trying to compete,  
The painted sunset peaking through the dark skeletons of the trees,
Framing her and completing the picture,
The ugly cars and buildings trying to hide the warm orange light beneath her,
But they could never win.
Eventually the thick lace of clouds slowly swallow up the orange,
turning yellow,
Then teal,
Finally resting at blue,
Putting the sun to sleep,
Although it is too beautiful for us to witness,
Leaving the moon to watch over.

- JJ

The sun shines bright on the dull colors of the world
my life is full of love and unjust cruelty swirled

Like a moth to the sun, unreachable and dangerous
Love partaking in the risks that may injure us

Though I must shy away and find this supposed inner peace
It’s hard to grow up and turn a new brighter leaf

So much movement with little energy
I hope not to live like this till i’m elderly  

I want to move, to heal, to grow, and to rearrange
I want so much but there is little left in me working to change

Far away, I see a man
Standing tall on rocks of sand.
Careful not to move or breathe.
Fearful of what may break beneath.

He sees me, too,
Wading in a pool of blue.
Here I have stood for years,
Now tired from all of my fears.

The water whispers my name,
Saying I am not to blame.
She offers me rest.
And lulls me to take one last breath.

But the man warns me to keep my head above,
Warning me of the devil’s dove.
If I die, so will he; even now, we totter
Scared, I may drown in three feet of water.

In Cooks, Rarotonga
An oasis protected by coral reefs
in the vast blue ocean.
Open, outstanding, yet not everyone
can approach
Only those few who know the drill.

In Manawatāwhi,
Demoiselle,
Maomao —
are names given to fishes
And Bottlenose dolphins play.

Even the strongest cannot endure the storm
The mourning mother
never sees his son again
Lying alone on the shallow white sand
He becomes a piece of nature’s artefact.

And the sorrow of loss
is only remembered
by those who echoed.