the virus is showing
its resurgent
capacity
which is why people
must stay well away
from a crowded
locality  

the virus's spread
is akin to a wild
fire
and it burns into a human's body
with a uncontrolled
kind of
desire  

the virus isn't to be
taken
lightly
nor treated as a non
threatening germ's
sprightly  

the virus is still out
there waiting to
attach
itself
onto our healthy
shelf

Hello world oh so large, everywhere there is something. So, oh my where do I start, there's always something. Somethig to see, something to feel, taste, or smell. And to think I can hear all of you, all of you everywhere, just by looking for you. Just by caring you see, you see humans you and me.

The Vow

my brain will not be silent
my heart won’t skip a beat
the world is way to violent
the sun has lost its heat
what is going to take place
after it all is said and done
we need to succeed and embrace
and know that humans have won
we all retain the power
to stop this mayhem now
it will take a worldly shower
it will take mankind's vow....

Brian Hill - 2020 # 172

under the unseen
wastes floating
alongside the clouds,
i’ve peered
at the blurring memories
of times bygone

the waves
that used to waltz gracefully
are now as loose
as the sands in the shore
where they used to land.
when they ebb
into their horizons
once a month,
the daisies planted
on the ocean floor are revealed:
wilting, patiently,
beside the rusting metals
of sunken ships and people

those who reign over
the cities are still
trading air and tanks
with gold;
the cosmonauts that remained
are left with no choice
but to dig
and try to survive  

they say small towns
are now vanquished,
but when you look
intently beyond
the forlorn and barbed wires,
traces of life can be seen —
on half-bare trees and
on blood-painted gutters.

in where we reside,
footsteps and words
are almost nowhere
to be heard.
we walk lightly as how
we breathe quietly.
if you get to visit our place,
squint your eyes
and gaze beyond
our tinted masks —
i pray
that you’ll somehow see
how we’re still
what we used to be:

living creatures,
only trapped
in strange times.

Let me clear something up:
ALL HUMANS ARE PSYCHOS.

And you can't tell me otherwise
Because we are.
We weren't born this way,
We were made.

And yeah you may not act like it,
But let me tell a secret...
You've got it in you.

We all do.
We can all be bad.

We weren't born good or bad.
When we were born,
We were like clay.
Mouldable.

We were taught the differences between good and bad.

We were taught to be good.

But do we really know the difference?

Say a kind person is called 'good'.
That same person can hate someone.
That person can be bad.

Because being a bad person isn't just killing someone,
Or stealing, doing drugs.

A bad person has dark thoughts.

And you can't tell me you have never had such a thought before.

Because I know you have.

Therefore, all humans are technically bad.

We just don't consider ourselves to be
Because our definition of good and bad,
Isn't ours.

It's someone else's.

Our definitions are based on what we see around us.

People may be innocent...
But that doesn't mean that they're not bad.
They just haven't done anything...
Criminal.

Yet.

in your first life, you are a human, and express yourself
in your second life, you are a dog, only able to bark
in your third life, you are a tree, existing in silence
the nirvana will be your salvation: god-approved nothingness

humans can not imagine such a state, we only imagine the netherworld:
heaven and hell are places of gates, fire, lights, gardens and trees
so, does the afterlife take place on earth? what is the case?
do the dead, invisibly, populate the earth like in "the sixth sense"?

a famous playwright once stated that the dead dwell behind curtains
but they don't do so, in reality, they flow through our souls
like rivers through a channel, our souls are tools for ancestors
we do not feel them but they sense us strongly, they scent us

souls governed all human acts that were ever commited
souls govern all human acts that are being commited right now
souls govern all human acts that will be commited
a soul's texture is invisible, yet it weighs precisely 21 grams

everything i wrote about the afterlife and the soul may be wrong
i am as human as you, reflecting and presuming; my hands are tied
i would like to be a tv-preacher but i am not addicted to the dollar
god-channels are flodded by donation banners; humans buy certainty

this certainty, though, only lasts until our final breath: then we will know
then we will really know but we can't tell anyone; and that's our torture
i appreciate life but there are things we will never figure out while living
ludicrous uncertainty is drifting through my mind: the end of the dream