Are we not like leaves?
We grow, we watch, we change,
Aging beside those we cherish,
Until, at last, we fall—
And new ones take our place.

Wintertime's hoarfrost, ice and rime
Have gone; departed hath the Gloom.
Make haste, ye maids, in Lilac Time:
Collect your Blossoms whilst they bloom.
What blooms today soon fades away:
Gather ye Lilacs while ye may,
Sith times, like Flying Saucers, zoom.

" Whenever I have to have a difficult conversation with someone or it is an important topic, I always talk to them. Lots of times I don't want too.
    You can't go back in time. It is hard to tell people difficult things. When it is appropriate you can tell her that in person. "

Overcast days
Grey skies
Skipping to my beats
Emotional high
Let it out
Breathe it in
Universal sigh
Back on track
Found my pace
Settle in
It’s about to begin
Beautiful Day
My my
Feeling alright
Nothing to do
Nothing standing in my way
Walking straight ahead
With my vibe
Immune to time
Flip the switch on my kit
Pull rhythm and rhymes
From the sky
Written by:
Timothy Charles Carter

Humanity has been so much like a child
With too many rich, useful toys,
Playing with each one that's given,
And discarding it when something
Newer appears in its midst.

We have been dilettantes and amateurs
With some of our greatest notions
For human betterment.
We have been spoilt children:
We have been like tyrannical children;
Impatient and imperious, demanding
Proof when listening is required,
Tearing things down when they don't do
What we want them to do
(How much simpler to let things do only
What they can do)
Being uncreative about what seems dark
And terrifying; preferring
Only what seems easy
And effortless;
Questioning the numbers
Of a philosophy's
Followers rather than examining
The fruitfulness of its ideas;
Wandering down blind alleys of populism
That lead to concentration camps;
Refusing to admit our vast crimes and mistakes
Denying the horrors of the slave trade
Minimising the reality of the gas chambers
Tearing our hair out in futile attempts
At reconciling civilization with genocide,
When civilization (as we have come to accept it)
Never did mean the true universal goodness
Of heart,  but rather meant the self-mythology
Of a people, a race.
No, neither the good in us, nor
Our capacity for evil are exhausted.
Time will show just how young
We are in our abilities,
Of genius for good and evil.
For all these strains, unexamined,
And unredeemed,
Will find their higher fruition
In the unlit centuries to come.

by Ben Okri from Mental Fight An Anthem for the Twenty-First Century

Madam History sways, it swings, it plays,
It climbs so high,
Then downward strays!
Nothing stands still—it all goes on.
On steel so thin, we’ve stepped, the cornice.

At deadlock’s point, the tension grows—
To and fro,
Fro and to!
And all could end in one swift flow…
But the trumpet’s not yet blown!

There’s hope, my friend—it lies in Salvation!
It’s not so simple, dear, you’ll see.
The apocalypse’s ruination?
But not yet built is our redoubt!

Still History sways, it swings, it plays,
The skies won’t fall, they’ll hold their place.
The Beast still growls, it bites, it preys…
And builds its fiery stronghold’s base!

*redoubt – a defensive structure.


     Мадам История

Мадам История качается.
Стремится вверх,
Несётся в низ!
Всё не стоит – всё продолжается.
На тонкий встали мы карниз.

У мёртвой точки напряжение –
Туда-сюда,
Сюда – туда!
И может всё в одно мгновение…
Но не трубит ещё Труба!

Надежда есть – она в спасение!
Не так всё просто, милый друг.
Апокалипсиса крушение?
Но не построен тот редут!

Ещё История качается
И небеса не упадут.
А Зверь рычит и огрызается…
И строит огненный оплот!