You sit at your screen
fingertips flying in the face of decency
like a spigot attached to a vat of arsenic
dripping your poison, slowly, surely into the ears of the unthinking.

You justify the burnt skin, the orphans, the unending torture as deserved.

Deserved?

How can it be so?

Go tell the orphan, scarred and screaming that her fate was deserved.

Go stand beside mass graves and thumb your nose at the deserving corpses, stained by the blood of ages.

Where is your heart? 
does it choke and sputter,
buried beneath your all encompassing loathing?

You call me stupid, maybe so,
my views naive, my compassion wasted
yet my heart beats proudly, swells with love 
while my tired eyes drown at the unfolding horror.

War is not a spectator sport,
it is not justifiable, nor deserved.

Call me stupid if you will, ridiculous if you must
call me any number of names in your attack on my spirit
I will not care, I will not bend or bow.
Your hatred will be your undoing.
Not mine

Amorous play
Heightened senses
Lover’s in rhythm
Thrilling chase
Entwined heart
Awakened passions
Fervent tango
Delicate moves
Love’s Aroma
Exhilarating feelings
Lover’s at play

Petals float on the winds
Warm breeze strokes my hair
Springs chorus envolopes my ears
Mesmerizing aromas fill the air

Interrupted, chills down my spine
No longer dreaming a warm desire
Icy gales freeze to my face
Winter winds cutting like wire

Years from now,
When even the future is but a distant echo
In the ears of humanity's descendants
And the remnants of the present
- languages and cultures -
Are preserved on scraps of paper
With bits of faded ink,
Historians will wonder
At our casual representation
Of so powerfully destructive
A word.

Wind.
whipping at your hair
which writhes alive
as your two narrow wheels
catapult down &
       down
            the grainy earth
            in loose clouds of dust
            while you turn
corners,
trusting rubber treads
to cleave to the trail
as gravity changes
direction.

It's a steep, slick path
and all you hear
is Wind
and all you feel
is Wind
and it's like you're standing
                 still
with an avalanche
of trees
and rocks
and time
crashing past your line of vision
as if planet earth suddenly discovered
it could fly
and at that moment
you discovered
the perfect vantage point.