I know a bit about math.
You add one to another and get two
divide two and get two separate ones.
Do you think that 1 wanted to be divided?
What if it was happy under the aid of the other one?
What if they were meant for each other?

You multiply x by y.
X and y don't go together,
it's by nature.
But it's by choice that they still collide together,
and x and y suddenly seem indifferent.

You divide x by y.
After bonding for so long,
after understanding each of their incompatibility issues
and trying to mend them to better fit,
they're finally divided.
One is now without the other,
the other is without that one,
and they are both separate variables in a cold world.
It's by nature that they remain separate,
but it's by choice that they still remember.

Magic breadcrumbs
Twinkle like stars
Giggling while hiding
Tender memoirs

Voodoo whispers
Finespun intention
Vibrating and swaying until
Magic has snuck in

Enticing while Splicing
Singing me along
Via my senses
To where I belong

Daring to be found
Anticipating you
Suspended exhalation
Timeless rendezvous

I was watching a reportage about the strong possibility of a war between Iraq and Kurdistani Kirkuk.  I don't consider myself a political person, neither politically aware nor politically active.  But sometimes, I'm moved on a deep level at the futility of and process leading up to war.  This is one of those moments.  I went directly to the computer.

        You Can’t Have A War

You can’t have a war

Unless you have weapons;

You can’t have those weapons

Unless you have industries;

Can’t have an industry earning no money -

And money means profit,

For who runs an industry

That doesn’t profit -

Profit the carrot.



Weapons-to-profit:

The distance is multi- or many small instances

Building the one upon other,

Easy to disregard,

Turn a blind eye to.



Oil or real estate,

Access to coast,

Minerals, labor:

Possession and use.

Passions’ abuse

And war is the certainty.



It’s terribly sad,

This fighting for terra;

A sickening error

Pretending it’s doctrine or canon or righteousness.

Overruled, conscience.



You can’t have a war,

Restrain it,

Unless there’s this chain of re-action,

Everyone playing his part.

It’s breaking my heart.

Ain’t it yours?



You Can’t Have A War 10.14.2017

War Book II; Our Times, Our Culture II;

Arlene Corwin

I was always kind of a mess, but you were always there to piece me back together. I spent days, followed by nights, with my face firmly pressed to my pillow. You would always hold me, kissing my head softly. Telling me that it'd be okay, and that you'd never let go.
                                    I never understood why you'd waste you're time on a broken bolt like me. I couldn't hold anything together, not even myself. I never really was religious, but now, now I find myself begging god every day. Begging him to bring you back, and take me instead.

I used to tell you "be safe."
Put on your seatbelt,
Don't speed,
Don't do anything reckless-
Don't do anything that could leave me
Without you.

Now I find myself
Driving 40 over the speed limit,
Without a seatbelt on,
Visiting all of the places
Where I miss you the most.