Every time she take a good look of her old pictures

All she could remember is pain
All she could remember is violence
All she could remember is bad words

She wants to remember a happy memory
But she couldn't

Because she didn't have one and
Because the pain last
While the happiness gone

It ignites inside them; it does boil and swell,
Another emotion man attempts to quell.
But this vapour of hatred and these bubbles of wrath,
Seem determined to scorch those that dare cross their path.
Flames stoked by abhorrence, froth stirred by malice,
"How dare the heathens encroach into our palace?"
This typhoon of sentiment, this eruption of conviction,
I find it to be the source of many an affliction.
Man stands idly by, gawking in shock,
The opportunity passes with the hands of the clock.
The lid though of iron can't contain this hot steam,
The sensation that boasts it would tear at the seam.
Guilt simmers; hope evaporates in shame,
One more missed prevention, yet no one to blame.
Man exclaims rather loudly, "Next time I will help!"
As the downtrodden perish, with a suppressed yelp.

The rose is dead,
    The violence true,
***** is sweet,
    Just like you.

They left to
defend your honor
They left to
defend your shrine
The false promise
of your heaven
In their juvenile minds
Armed with evil
heavier than
their own weight
God,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

They left to
defend our mothers
They left to
defend our wives
The passion burns
in their blood
To protect the last child
Shouldered with
the burden that
the uniform dictates
Minister,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

There is a strange
turbulence in the air
The wind reeks
of wanton violence
I feel the same rage,
I feel the same pain
I yearn for peace
and risk your hate
With your answer
my mind might change
So,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

The bruises where torn petals,
           that fell with every word.

The thorns cutting it to my mind.

And when I was adorned with the
                  blossom of your actions.

I would never rise to another sunrise.

so if we
stand still
smell the heat

of an enemy's
bullet through our veins
for once

court outcome
of supplanting views
imbibing another's sweat

casuist's bile
scrawled on prison walls
of savaged confines

they salute
their spiel
with the same

toxic hold
as we concoct
world views

venomous elixir
polymorphous maze
shadow of a sphinx

looms clearer
as steps leading
to torn pages

of feted book
uncover dichotomy
of a self split

so that shooting a child
of shunned genes
amounts to nil

for in but a blink
his uniform
arrives home

to stroke the
golden locks
of his only daughter

playing Chopin

let me rant awhile
for what good it may do
to open the valve
if only briefly

for as one wave
after another
of sheer indignity
is reported

survivor guilt
courses through me
yet even this
was not mine to choose

for I don't happen to
have been born
Jewish
or black -

and that doesn't make me
more -
or less -
worthy of dignity

but I can observe closely
what it is like
to be pilloried
and persecuted

for one's peaceful contacts
and communications
holding personal beliefs
at odds with a regime

and a rage
courses through me
on contemplating
'man's inhumanity to man' -

though written long ago
that the world would be so,
where hatred would replace
kindness, love, empathy

I deplore the way
an ideology
of one disturbed,
possessed person

can lead to millions
donning a uniform,
henceforth labelling
one sector of humankind

'persona non grata'

to be mercilessly pursued
in legitimized genocide,
even savaging
little children

frightened lads
caught on the run
made to hold arms
for food

mamas with babes in arms
forced to watch them
dashed to pieces
then buried alive underground

their infant cries still heard
while their mothers were ***** -
as beleaguered, beautiful Estonia
was brought to it's knees...

and I weep and rant
feel knives in my gut
blood pulsing swift -
then take hold of myself

seek to understand,
if that be possible,
even a smidgen
of such distorted thinking

to delve into the mind
of a hateful deviate
for but a moment
and remain intact

so I scan his written mantra
and come to see that
all deeply held convictions
must have at its core

RESPECT

lest it attract the weak
and easily led,
or those forced into submission
seeking to simply stay alive

and they find themselves
taking part
in a forest fire
of polluted propaganda

a flood of merciless
devastation,
while their deluded leader
continues to spout forth venom

in the distorted notion
that they would actually
be acting in society's
best interests

or worse still:
'in the name of God'
(Acts 5:39;
Hosea 4:1-3)

Your fingerprints cover skin
I am a record of all your sin.
I woke up on the floor again
Can’t remember where it began.
Mister sleep eludes me still
I can’t fight to defend my will
My head is void of wondrous dreams
Escape is what sees the sunbeams.
Humility is all I know
And yet you say theres more to show
You say you’ll teach me how to cope
You are what killed my will to hope.
Upon my skin I wear your anger
Upon my head a crown of danger
With the promise of tomorrow
Your forgiveness I seek to borrow.
And still though time has changed me
Your mistakes are all I will ever see
People close and people far
Fear the girl with an invisible scar.

“HE LOVES ME “ she says to herself everyday.
She always
claimed he would change
and day by day ,
month by month
til eventually years he became worse.
One day he came home
and everything was her fault
in his eyes. He beat her so badly
her family
didn’t recognize her anymore.
She never told them
he was beating her,
locking her away
in a closet for days at a time.
3rd times a charm
here she is in the hospital
once again and fighting for her life.
Loving the abuser eventually costed him taking her life. Now as she lays in the casket she looks down upon her badly beaten body asking herself “why didn’t I just leave?”

—a passage from my next book other book that I’m writing—