dear reader
youve been up for hours
you seem so tired.
staring silently while you're crawling quietly tracing reality quickly devouring all of the star dust beyond.
you slip violently
ducking beneath rabbit holes and roots
the water rushing up to meet you
a harsh reality greets you.
fresh palm air ghosting through thine whispers of hair and the seagulls they blare a snappy tune
a cookie to grow
a potion to shrink
honestly a story
to make you think
nonsense!
you cry you bemoan you scream
where are the jokes
there wasnt meant to be any
it was ment to have a point
to make people think
the end is never the end is never the end
your twisted mind starts bickering
two cheshire cats? tweedle dee tweedle doo
tick tock
stop that clock
the small blue bunny runs far away
children with screens
implanted in their tummies
oh so yummy
so delicious
so impure
the rapture of the gods
the magic of beyond
sweet candy houses
tall angry mouses
a dream or reality
who is to say
forced joliety
joy
thats my policy
:)

Scorpions and frogs
And drownings
Are a timeworn warning
Against trusting the cruel,
Unkind, and ignorant
Or being surprised at their nature.

I always read the parable
And faulted the frog
For trusting a scorpion.
"Never I, nay never"
I thought
And swore i would be better.

Now i look around
And i see
Im in a river together
With frogs, and scorpions
And maybe a chimera or two.
And we're all drowning.

I don't know right now
Who to blame
Or whom to turn to -
Maybe thats the problem
Or maybe
It's just my nature.

A prophet once proffered a parable,
A wheatable teaching and tarable,
     Concerning the needs
     Of a sowers sown seeds
That require a soil that's arable.

Once upon a time, a traveler was carrying seven big bags of pain. He went to a sanctuary, and people welcomed him—one waved at him, another smiled at him. But nobody offered to help him with his bags.

The people in the sanctuary were carrying their little bags, too. Besides, they were busy studying and talking about accommodation and companionship, so they couldn’t afford to waste time.

The traveler has traveled for seven years with no rest. He was tired and thirsty.

So despite being a stranger in the place, he immediately asked, “Can somebody give me a drink? I’m so thirsty!”

The people looked at him but ignored his inquiry. Nobody offered him a drink because they were busy identifying the ingredients for the perfect refreshment for travelers. They couldn’t afford to waste time.

While being exhausted and thirsty still, the traveler kept on walking around the sanctuary until he finally saw a pantry. He was happy and excited to taste food since he fed on some junk for years.

So with all his remaining strength, he grabbed the menu and asked for roasted beef, but the caterers offered him a roasted chicken instead.

The traveler didn’t take it. The people thought he was being prideful and demanding; little did they know that he's allergic to chicken meat.

The traveler was mindful of people’s business and busyness, so he thought it would be best for him to just keep the pain, hunger, and thirst to himself. And so he did.

Several days after, the people in the sanctuary remembered the traveler. They were finally done with their conversations; the refreshments and roasted beef were already available, too, so they looked for him.

They looked and looked, but the traveler was no more.

Far away, some years ago
A man sowed corn in his field
Confident, and hopeful too
Of the hearty crop he’d yield

Then birds flew in at sunset
And gobbled up many seeds
The farmer acted quickly
To provide his family’s needs

A woven net - to trap the birds
His precious seeds to preserve
He caught five geese and a stork
To get what they deserve

The stork said, “I am innocent
I’ve eaten none of your corn
Free me - I’ve done goodly deeds
Since the day that I was born”

The farmer said, “that may be so
But in this group you were caught
You receive the punishment
Of the company you’ve sought”

The same holds true for all of us
The rewards you choose to reap
Will likely be those given out
To the company you keep

The hill is alive

Marching soldier

Plugged into the hive

Follows the scent trail of the world before him

Winter is closing in

Food stores and Disney Plus

Take turns as kingpin

It's all about what's current

And holds a charge

Technological holdouts

Form an orderly line to the graveyard

The rest do their very best

To keep up with progress

Sikorki tchnienie w locie musnęło ziemię,
Kresy, wrzosy, suche liście też na wietrze.
Na sykomorze dalekiej Arabii ustała,
skulonego u jej korzeni tego, co sonety
o Aleppo układał, wysłuchała,
i przeto myślami po raz pierwszy
swe osmolone smogiem skrzydełka przetarła:

"Ku czemu się wykluwałam? Ku czemu latałam?
Swym trelem, uwagi skinieniem, czego mam być wyrażeniem?"
Nagle poczuła w każdej małej kości:
"Odpowiedź jest jedna: Miłości"

Że ma ona twarz wszystkiego, niczego, spojrzenia naszego:
Dwóch samców złączonych łabędzia czarnego,
Smutku dla szczęścia innego znoszonego,
Sekretu czule z łzami deszczowi wyznanego
I drzewa z grzyba korzeniem splątanego.

Że ku temu radość innym daje, że tego jest formą,
Wszystkich uczuć, chwil i wrażeń zmową.

"Dziękuję", na tą myśl światu odpowiedziała,
z wdzięczności dla poety z dołu
korę drzewa pocałowała,
i z nową tęsknotą, ku niebu Syrii,
odleciała.