To love when other people
feel happy in themselves
is the best bit of human

seeing other’s smiles
and feeling their confidence,
resilience, bliss or comfort rise
makes being alive make sense

The claws of jealousy,
covered in fibre-glass bristles,
can make you believe
that their gain is your loss
which is utter toss

Switch to embracing their joy
and you’ll employ your own

Organelles, cells, tissues, organs shape my body
My soul, my brain, my heart, my identity
A living mass and a concept ineluctably associated
Without necessarily working adequately together
To build something close to a character
That is, by some, tolerated, by a few, appreciated
Never reaching any sort of unanimity
Leaving the volume of possible interpretations as plenty

Context strictly guides aspects of my behavior
Adding an extra ‘s’ to my idiosyncrasy that primarily seems out of place
When being singular is often what wins the race
Launched by our most ancient ancestor

Am I one or plural?
Do I have one personality or several?
Am I what I think or what I do?
What others see or what I expose?
An ignorant mind with a decent prose
Or a curious man who has no clue?

Asking a question is to get closer to an answer
That might emerge in a distant future
In the meantime, I try to be and do good
To put my loved ones in the best possible mood
Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail
But my stubborn intention will always prevail

Cataclysm at its finest is it?
Catastrophe galore
Crisis & calamity
Beginning of  
humanitys' war
Great nuclear holocaust,
Mother natures devastation
Festering with inhabitants of the era of degradation.
Where we are the parasitic infestation
numbly oblivious to backfiring ruination.
Our world is a gas chamber
with poison - being suffused & saturated.
A toxic wasteland for our toxic souls
heartless ghouls ought to be annihilated -
obliteration sounds tempting...
'mass suicide of this vicious nation'.
Black death couldn't quell us malicious beings
No virus contagion in existence ever would -
eradicate a species, this selfish & grim
Should we blow the world up if we could?
All the Atomic & Nuclear could be put to good use
Escape the mess we made & ignite the fuse
As the grotesque & gory go up in flames
vanquish every origin of mans evil games
Watch Earths inferno,
much better than Hiroshima or Chernobyl
Lamenting on the barren face of Mars,
Of the spectacle 'it' could've been but never will.

To be kind is not losing,
though bitter sadness
and lonely hours
can make it hard to see,
putting others’ shoes on
simply shows you’re not alone
and though you may not be a hero
widely worshipped, here’s the thing:
you’ll bring a mote of light
to the sometimes dark nights
in peoples’ souls,
which will shine a little back
and if we all fan these coals
with easy acts of decency,
none get lost in black,
none get left behind:
be kind

To want
and to be wanted
is an all too human condition-
or is it a flaw?
Either way,
it is nothing to
feel shame for.

The drums of war
are brutal blistering
battering rams of
rage that repeat,
beat after beat
pulsing as we
move and bleed.

A warrior
on an obsolete
sturdy stead,
losing one
cubic inch
of his pinched
and pulled skin,
palpating atrium
disintegrating
as his flesh
loses its shading,
as humanity
starts changing
needing a new
naming
because what
comes after
is a walking
disaster.

The master of
destruction,
a transmogrification
of childlike nature
to a new monstrosity
worse than any
Stephen King
horror creature.

War defeats
and repurposes
the hope
that humans propose
as we close
one door
and then
shut the window
to stop the wind
from letting
the sweet breeze
of loving all of these
strange things
that make us
decent human being.

I have come to realize that
we, humans,
have a religion-shaped hole
in all of our hearts.
What do you fill yours with?

High rises burst from soft Earth’s flesh

Was it even ready for us?

From an extraterrestrial’s perspective we’re a disease upon this gentle cerulean Elysium

I’m living in the mouth of duality

I hear it speak as I leave my block and give a peace sign to the abandoned residences in progress

On the block I currently live, the sidewalk is cracked into drunken mazes and yet

                            Directly across, the neighbors stand upon freshly minted asphalt and into a metropolitan construct made for the modern brain: built in amenities, contemporary textiles and garage parking

Are we next?

To be bought and sold, if so, can we at least have a plan for the residents?

Will tenants be invited to the newborn paradise? We have the budget to feed cement trucks faster than hungry mouths. It’s become a bad habit

yet I sit by the man-made imperfections

hoping someone cares enough to drip their Eden into the palms of my neighbors

If time will tell I’ve been getting quite the silent treatment

Travel a little deeper and….

Cosmopolitan crossroads coexist with beggars and lost folk….

Since when was the speech divided between affluent and broke?

"IDK?" The duality replies

I thought you’d say that.