Humming bird feeding

On the teensy flies, clouds of

His integral trees.

"Go Slow", I told my life in January
"I want to take this journey at your pace"
"I want to build those bridges again"
"I want to complete you as I would always want"

"Hello!” I heard a call from the near far.  
Was it really a response from the healing heart of February?!
"I hold the right to set your pace"
"I hold the right to bless you sleeps"
“I hold the right to curse you sleeplessness"
“I decide the right for you in everything"

Until the obscene April summer turned up,
It was not life; but the Cyclone’s desire to fell everything en route.
I learned; there might be things to cherish
But would not want to own again

Rains in Kerala carry the rhythms of life
I once again made those paper boats
At my pace, as the 10 year old,
And as July demanded
Life grew deeper within, in that rhythm of rains
Nursing the one who nursed me for long
I learned, there are only cycles in life,
There is only movement in life

The flight took off, despite the pedantic reasons thrown over the tarmac
In that morgue of frozen mummies, I felt the futility of expectations
My Wings of fantasies halted, on top of the panoramic Great Wall
In the arc lights of award night, I enjoyed the pleasure of losing
Walking alone the Washington streets, I found the walks of life...

November comes concealing a lot; it conceive sorrows
It grows a detached attachment within and around you
November reinforces the relativity in everything
Life, love, respect, trust and confidence

I like the reds in December, it's flamboyance
I like the irony of "hope" brought in by this very end!
There are only cycles in life, no gains or losses
There is only movement in life, some forward
And some stuck in the maze and not knowing which way.

A man of mystery
A man of talent
A man who makes you think,
A man who makes you wonder what's right, what's wrong, when you thought you knew all along.
Is Banksy man or myth?

We know so little of this man who can paint with brush or spray can.
He remains hidden, unseen, unknown, a mystery.

Signing his Tag on bridges and walls,
Mocking figures of justice, highlighting the worthy cause.

His paintings are worth thousands of pounds, not all remain in tact, some get recovered and that's a fact.
Councils who do not like the message displayed, white them out in a matter of days.

None the less his fame has grown, his pictures displayed and shown in museums around the world.

Yet no one can put their hand on their heart and say I've known this man from the start.

That's why Banksy remains an enigma.
A man of mystery
A man of talent
A man who makes you think,
A man who makes you wonder what's right, what's wrong, when you thought you knew all along.
Is Banksy man or myth?

Anyone know?

Water does it for me, there's nothing I like more than living by the sea.

You live in Exeter I here you cry, that's not by the sea and I agree but it has a river and canal and that's good enough for me.

Water relaxes me, I can watch it roll and tumble all day, watching it go on its merry way.

Water chills me, I solve issue by gazing at the water, suddenly ideas abound as the water makes its way round.

Water brings back happy memories of days spent by the sea.
Learning how to surf and eating ice lollies.  

When your an island your inclined to think that we'll never run out of the drink.

However let's not take water for granted, let's not dare, I want my children and grandchildren to be able to stand and stare.

The Talking **** is babbling
He’s not quite capable of reason.
He’s busy patting his own back
Every day, every month and season.
The Talking **** is assuming
As usual that we can’t think.
But we know for a certainty
That a talking **** still stinks.

The Talking **** is promising
All the miracles he will perform.
He’ll take credit from others
After all, that’s his norm.
He’ll put down the good efforts
Of those who came before
Who actually did the good work
While he worked on his golf score.

The Talking **** is not required
To make very much good sense.
He has his Nazis beside him
And a crowd of the politically dense.
He says what he knows pleases
Those who are not quite bright.
He chants the hateful dogma
Adopted by fools on The Right.

I know there are millions of you
That do not want to think about things
Like politics, politicians and rules;
The boring stuff those discussions bring.
You’d rather watch the game and while
You drink your beer and sit and cheer
And love whoever you want to love
And hate who you like to hate and jeer.

Hey Hey Hey
USA USA USA

But the big problem in this country
Is that there are people out there
Who will take advantage of that and
Steal every dime you have to spare.
They will lie to you and steal from you
And legislate away your rights gleefully
Because they know what you are feeling
And use it against you shamelessly.

Hey Hey Hey
USA USA USA

They are very happy that you don’t
Want to be bothered with all that.
So when this country slides down
Down the tubes we'll all tip our hat
And remind you what you did to help;
You did absolutely nothing. You played
While adults around you did the work.
Now you raise your kids the same way.

Hey Hey Hey
USA USA USA

I see the sky crack open
And try to paint it closed with starlight,

But lo and behold it does not wish
To mend itself tonight,

And as it falls so gracefully,
I watch the sea lap at the city's ticklish toes.

Serene as ever, but still deep with mischief,
The sea plays with the city until it is bright with light

Of laughter and joy
Until it decides if it should sleep this night.

Sonewhere in the distance sits something,
What? Nobody knows,

But it sits there in waiting,
Like a sanguine sentinel, somehow hopeful.

And mark my words,
The cracking sky opens, opals

Pouring from an endless beyond
Just to shake hands with a never ending sea.
It is how the sky reaches out to the sea:

For once, just once,
I wish it would reach for me.

Sunlight peers through the waning leaves;
The waters dance in the puddles from the passing rain;
Yet still humid,
Yet still serene.

Gazing through casual talk;
Lips wet with unspoken words;
With an uneasy heart,* left heavy-handed;

With all that's here to see,

*Silence never left.