the pangs dig deep
its been harder to sleep
this hunger we fight
with all our might
gone are our meals
but not our will
each breath we take
a vision we create
this fight's not done
for the power of one
the givers will give
the believers will live
the meals will arrive
and again we'll thrive
to faith we succumb
with prayer in this slum
for when faith is lost
the fight is lost
and when love is lost
all is lost
The plight of a daily wage worker in a lockdown. Not knowing where the next meal will come from, sometimes the only will one has is that to survive.
There is only interdependence in existence and continuity. We need another as much as another needs us. May we continue to recognise this oneness and keep giving in any way we can.
Here I am
staring at pixelated people
and I want so desperately to see them
face to face.
My eyes ache from blue light.
Why are we even trying?
We are alone.
Isolated like islands
in a sea of disease
I called an elderly lady today
just to check in
since I can't see her
or listen to her talk
about doilies and dinners and memories
I understood then --
alone does not mean apart
and distancing does not mean forgetting.
Yet I forgot.
I'm not giving up
on the light of the summer
to chase away the winter blues
No matter what keeps us apart,
we are here
a safety net of helping hands and words
we are unity.
I know there is so much fear about the CoronaVirus right now. I feel it. There will be a better time when we can embrace our people and see them face to face.
I met a man the other day
He was homeless, wore down, and his head full of gray
I asked his story, he responded saying there's no sob here
just a life of brokenness pain and sorrow
He said " Son I've crossed the world n back, killed men for a better tomorrow. But behind all that is where I hid way beneath my flask. My daddy fought in the world war and I in 1967, fought my way to sergeant of platoon Echo Gulf Eleven. I was there the day Kennedy died and yes many of us did indeed cry. War damages us, breaks and tears your soul, it's not till you're back home you realize the real fight is here. Brother's and sisters fighting in the streets, I would rather spend my time here then laying in cozy sheets".
It's been 5 years since that day, since then I gave the man a place to stay, he found his purpose again. Today he inspires change, he speaks to the younger kids stressing the importance of the future. The world is small and crazy one little step and your whole life can be wrecked and one inspired generation left is enough to become the next president.
To the Bees -
it's about time
you took a break;
I'm quite worried about your health.
You are so dedicated, working
to visit the flowers and trees.
But Bees -
I hate to tell you -
I really do;
But one of you,
yes, just one,
makes so little honey.
In a lifetime.
So Bees -
why don't you take a break
from humming, flying,
and no benefit you yourself.
Take some me-time bee-time,
the flowers will live;
It's the closest I've got to a soul.
Ever present and when it isn't
desperate to feel its powerful touch,
wash over me, connect me to the hive mind,
the swirling voice, collective planet,
except those with no access.
Yes, it is life blood,
cool streams in the desert,
a thing so desperately sought.
Daniel Magner 2020
How useless would that computer be
That followed its own desires,
Never trusting the commands
Of its rightful User?
A computer that shuns it's purpose
The power of it's dutiful, expensive organs,
A body created for service to others,
Wasted potential sitting dormant.
That Computer escapes destruction,
That obeys without hesitation,
complete dedication without limits,
Overclocked and freely giving.
That Computer receives good things,
Care, and trust and abundant use,
The User can do miraculous things
That only the computer makes possible.
It asks for nothing and yet receives
When it's parts wear out, they are renewed
The User gives what the computer needs
A bond exists that is fruitful and true.
That computer lives forever,
That loves the User
Above all else.
that is entitled:
Adapting to AI Intuition,
On assuming the role of the
be still and know
This is entitled the poem you just
one way or another.
If it ai n't phuny, it may be a mea phorical expression petrified
I am a walking talking PSA for the incorrect way to live
Number of dollars in my bank account matches how many ***** I give
Pay for gas so I can go to work
I get stuck behind the transit again
I'm gonna go berserk!
A little ****
Start my day
..Or more like a lot
The location of my pipe I've somehow forgot
Bloodstains on jeans
For breakfast had coffee and a bag of jellybeans
Bearing ***** nails and even dirtier mind
A hole in my pantseams right in the behind
Positive thinking not doing me any good
Failed everything I have tried believing I could
Negative thinking has not worked either
Found success in neither
The marks humans left on skin and my feelings
Turned my pride into a pile of peelings
Where am I going?
Haven't a clue
Trying to climb out of the hell I fell into
Going crazy searching for an escape route
That does not exist because there's no way out