Have a nap
And a snack
Before you attack
someone undeserving
By overreacting.
When anger fills your veins
let your blood boil
But speak kindly.
I gave you room
for more than one feeling at one time;
but only one tongue,
so speak to my children with love.
Each word spoken
Doubles in sound
And what you give to this world
Will come back around.
Glove your hands.
Cushion your grasp on the world.
I made your palms strong;
More than enough
To build up life,
Though it's by choice
when you tear another's down.
Don't clown around
and waste your life
Denying Time.
There's no excuse.
Even I am not as old as she,
And she is stubborn
And unyielding,
So walk steadily,
And stand tall.
Be proud of yourself.
Stay grounded in what you know-but Always remember:
I know all.
You know some; some others know more, And some know none,
Yet no one is dumb,
Just unsure.
For those who have no conviction
Or strength to fight
I gave you feet like the tree roots,
Dig your toes in the sand and tower over Anyone who chooses to be
The first flame in a fight of fires.
Be my burning bush for hope and change, Boiling blood exists for a reason,
There is a time and place
For everything that you are,
And everything around you.
Travel far
And feed the hungry
Under the blue skies I reside in.
Shade and shelter your kin,
Yes! Your brothers and sisters.
Even if you don't know them..
Especially if you don't know them!
Then get to know them!
They are your family!
And i command loud ringing
Voices of comraderie,
Echoing happily off
Homes you built
Both outside and in.
Your temple
That houses me within you
Is coming along splendidly,
Child!
You've grown into a fine reminder
Of where you've been and who i am.
Keep going,
And do everything you can.
Like storm at sea
Rowing over waves,
Keep faith and,
Also remind yourself that
You're worthy of the efforts you give others,
So another's love
Had better
Match your own.
If i answer "No" don't fight it.
I know it stings.
Oh yeah, protect the bees, they're important down the line.
I hope you like flowers,
And rivers,
The fruits of my labor are for you,
And yours should be for your children too.
Teach them well,
And after a blink or two in time,
You'll see them like i see you,
Nearly divine!
You'll feel proud to know this world ive gifted you is safe for another day.
So rest your feet;
It's time to come and stay with me.
Let's watch the world you helped create,
And Rest easily.

Mankind is a mosaic
of everything they have done in their existence;
insignificant if the pieces cease
to fit against each other,
all intertwined into one melancholic,
woe-filled work of art.

Is poetry like rubbing salt on already open wounds,
or is it what heals them?

Is it the cure to the poison present in our soul,
or is it, instead, the bane of what we feel?

what if in lieu,

poetry is what keeps mankind alive
through words once unsaid and unwritten.

It carries on our prophecy
and alleviates the vague suffering
present in the deep pit of our insufferable, mortal minds.

Poetry,
is the way our soul inevitably bleeds.

We are animals,

disguised by something artful --


as if we were more.

Well, is man still in

the cradle of Earth? Would it --


predict anything?

What is one is itself
but if you know someone else
you are partly also that person
you are also what was different
until that moment

And you observe that, it dawns
on you and you grow

That's interesting, we repeat it
in stories about people
and the gods they imagine:
the more souls, the merrier and the more
humor thanks to the differences

And the trick is to learn
to see that everyone is everything

Therefore, yes therefore there was
a feast in heaven for the wicked sons
at the end of their tumultuous lives
while the good sons
were taken to hell

And the supreme god laughed
at their illusions

God greatly desires

peace, man gives him more and more --


to ponder about.

For 5,000 years,

people have been dreaming, will --


they ever wake up?