When you ask me what I am doing
If am bored
Or doing nothing
My response to you will be
Breathing

Hops the white rabbit
In meadows where foxes lay
from life, seizing its due

Fear makes of all men
Deaf to pain that surrounds them
Listen! humanity calls

Where does one reside,
as I take you open by surprise.
Some simply stir then slide,
smile wide when chuckles bubble up,
uncommanded from gut.

This energy is expansive,
sensing our echo chambers ring.
Mid to lower level signs start swirling,
an automatic response mechanism,
there will be no rehearsing.

Results of tears for reprimand,
personal preferences are assertive,
although we tend to sing collectively.
Fire breeds, we all bleed,
spasms squeeze in neck and chest,
brain now ceased to enjoy without conceit.

If I dissociate any longer
I’m scared that there will
not be anything left to come
back to.

I am humble on my right

that can turn arrogant at night

the next card is not known

like ways, my next emotion is thrown



Years came and years gone

where is the end I do not know

the fun was hanging on a branch

that can collapse at any part



Weather was warm and pleasing

the dejected face was freezing

this expression was never shown

it's the nature that always heals



All emotions are complex

what threatens is Short living anger

killing some good vibes

that tucked with us the whole time

Dear, Pa –
it’s your once-son
Danny – or better known
as Sandy, or Annie or;
Ann-Marie and to some
folks on 19th Street,
I’m known as a sinner, a ******!
My life is a movie, like
a catwalk model; and
I play a very special person, who’s got
no-one to lean on, no mommy to hold, and;
Wait, I know her. She’s familiar to me like,
I’ve known her since the beginning of time, but
right now, in physical form, she stands
in front of me in the;
mirror, Pa. Yes, I am her reflection, no
I mean she’s my reflection and I realize
that; all along, this whole time, I told myself
a big-fat lie; as a child, hatred and anger
were the tears I cried. So –
this one’s for you, my king,
my liege; this one’s the promise
that we’ll keep; this one’s the bond
between our sheets; but this one’s the
one that’ll point at you; before I lift
the middle one, to say, “***** You!”
But hey, Pa – here I am. A
woman, not a man. A bonafide,
sophisticated lady in minx
with, real diamond earrings and
fierce wings; those nails, my nose
and my lips – make me feel like I’ve
power at my fingertips.
Tonight is my show – it’s my time
to shine. And I’m going to **** it
like I know I can – so thank you Pa,
and thank you, ma’am. For giving
me the strength to be who I am.

My heart is beating rhythmically
 In resonance to the beat of 'End Of Time’.
My soul is breathing in tranquility,
In response to the gleaming full moon.
My body is surviving poetically
In reply to the poetries I write.

Preface:
Was it all took a speech?
Then there were the threats, then there were the deaths.
…
Was it all due to S. P memorial?
14 day ago…


“Drop drop’ red rain sliding, 
In the back street during his morning walk.
Father Ian paced steadily, it was a grey morning,
early November.

Imagined dialogues
Occur in mind, 
a rendezvous with himself 
Hauled suddenly from solitude,

'How now,' Father Ian addressed the empty hall
Counting there, 9 times knives 
Attacked marks, smelling of burning anger.
This was how the school hides indiscriminate ******.

“Fight fight?”  against blue pallor,
Of hell, and not the fiery part.  

'Knives knives,' Father Ian mocked with an Atlas shrug,
'Don't I warn you to stop those ridiculous fables.
In silence, they come alive,
Of dusted harps or gnawing fear:  Simply tells

'What mission?', questioned from Father Ian, 
“Mind as the host, what just epilogue 
Would these too hollow to be chased?’
What flawed earth-flesh could cause this saddened pass?

'There sits no higher court
Than man's transparent soul’.

Attack, Attack, shocked, Father Ian cried
'Can‘t they run and hide, to get inside
Like a last storm-crossed leaf?  Best ghost swore to the priest:
Why again knives, carried at Paris and Nice?