On the first day when I lost my mind to the cosmos.
I found myself in the body of a pig. With other happy fat hairy pigs around me.
Being naked felt natural. I did not feel the need to clothe myself.
I layed in the mud all day long, letting it harden on my skin; god did it feel good, like a spa treatment except I didn't need to pay a penny. I would come out of my mud hole during meal time, when food was dumped into the feeder. I did not care what it was, hell, it didn't smell that good, but I ate it all up anyway. It could have been **** for all I know. I was content with this simple life, until the farmer threw a rope around my neck, pulling me into a freaky looking house with sharp objects hanging from the ceiling.
He tied me to a pole, making me feel nice a comfortable, treating me like a family member, only then to shoot me by surprise. To him I was just a big fat sack of meat.

I awoke from my life as a pig and found myself sitting on a couch. I was drenched in sweat, mouth gaping like an open ******* from what I saw.
My friend tried to talk to me, but I did not understand nor know how to speak the language of humans anymore. All I could do was squeal and oink.
I stripped naked, got down on all fours and started rolling around in the garden's soil just outside my house.
I ate the flowers that stemmed out of the soil, as well as the weeds growing around them.
The neighbors reported me for public ******, so I was sent to a mental institute, where I was taught how to speak like a human again and act like one too.

I gained a new perspective that day.
I vowed to all the animals that I would never eat them again,
and begun my journey into only eating plant based foods.

Vegan food makes my poo hard!
It is so good for me!
This is the benefit of living a plant based life.
If only you wanted your poo to be hard too.

On the second day when I lost my mind to the cosmos.
I was a carrot, and I had a family of carrots.
We were all buried underground, we never saw eachother, but we felt eachother, they were all around me.
I didn't need to breathe, I didn't need to move, I just needed to sit there, absorbing the solar rays that shone upon my green leaves protruding from the earth's crust. All I saw was darkness, but all I felt was warmth. I spent a thousand happy years as a carrot, but that changed when the havesters came.
They plucked us from our homes, tore us from our families and siezed the children!
They then proceeded to chop us up into bite sized pieces and boiled us in sizziling hot water, causing our skins to peal. We would then be served to the hungry mouths of the harvester’s wife and children, crying out for mercy, but our pleas were not heard, for they only heard with their ears, not with their feelings, like us carrots.

I awoke and found myself sitting on the couch again. Suddenly I was choking. I put my hands around my neck. I had forgotten how to breathe. Spending a thousand years as a carrot would do that to you, because you don't need to breathe as a carrot. My friend rushed into the room, and showed me how to breathe again, showing me how to **** in and blow out, which I did.
I had also forgotten how to talk, and needed to go to school once again to learn, because apparently talking with feelings is not a language.

I gained a new perspective that day,
I pledged to all my carrot brethern that I would never eat another vegetable again.
From now on I would stave myself so I could return to the earth,
feeding all the plants and animals.
My body is their salvation.

By cutting that carrot you are cutting yourself.
By eating that pig you are eating yourself.
You may not look the same,
but what you all feel is the same.

---

To you this is ******, but to me this is salvation.
In order to survive, I must feed.
The life that is strongest feeds on the weakest to survive, it is how we stay alive.
Nobody says a snake is a murderer when it swallows up a mouse.
Nobody says a venus fly trap is a murderer when it devourers a fly.
So why am I labelled a murderer when I eat meat and plant life?
Life needs to eat life,
It is how we stay alive.
Life needs to eat life,
It is how we survive.

---

I passed through the knot in the infinite line of things. I passed through the biological mapping of the knot, escaping my limitations, becoming limitless.
It was here where I saw myself in the carrot and in the pig. I saw myself in everything, and I saw everything in myself.

I have seen the blood of my loved ones, spilled on a dusty road;
Seen the fall of kings, powerful warriors and the bold;
The skin of mothers and little children, broken by cold;
The ancient landmarks of the fatherless, siezed and sold.

I have heard the cry of the homeless but no one there to save;
Heard the wailing of the deserted, seen the tears of the brave;
Many driven from their homelands, now hiding in caves;
And a father toiling night and day, treated as a slave.

I have heard of dreams of many, still unrealised;
The ****** daughters of priests, lured or defiled;
The goals of youths, swallowed up by pride;
And the future of generations, poorly discerned.

I have read government policies, unfavourable for the common man;
Heard of national resources, expended without concrete plans
Communities connive to eliminate a defenseless clan;
And a nation sold into modern slavery, by reckless polititians.

Many tears have droped, sweat and blood everywhere;
Many races have been run but the end seems nowhere near;
Many have waited hopelessly for a better year;
Many have stood up but crawled back for sake of fear.

A day will come when the oppressed will arise;
Like Martin Luther King Jr. did,though his blood was a price;
Like Nelson Mandela did, even though his act was termed a vice-
For the freedom of the enslaved and oppressed but the wicked's sudden demise.

The withering flower on the unspoken tree
The queen at her caslte begging on her knees.
The sky is loud and the waters calm
The birds no longer sing happy songs
The animals in the forest no longer explore
There is something slithering that much is for sure
Behind all the shadows in the dead of night
no where to be seen, out of mind out of sight.
children laughing with no thought to fear
but the monster is lurking
He starts to get near
The laughter grows louder it echoes the trees
The branches start shaking, down come the leaves
As the children skip playfully down the long grass road
Not knowing there laughter is selling there soul
The monster gets closer eyes glowing in suspense
The moment is closer his body gets tense.
He looks to his right, he looks to his left
The thoughts put to action Get ready get set
The laughter no longer, the playing has stopped
The voices have siezed, the noise now has dropped
The souls have been lifted then drove into the ground
No more laughter, no more playing around.
No more skipping for fun, no more running for joy
no more warm beds to sleep in, or a favorite toy
once a stupid adventure they not knew to make
Not knowing there lives what was at stake

Bearing the stench
of my decaying self
as a prisoner beneath
the walls of death
I crave for the mercy
utterly denied
I crave for liberty
I truly desire

As the sharpened roots
of the devil's sword,
the deathbed to the cloud
painted white
by the holy messages
from sanctity's skies
pierce through my mind
and stabs to death
my memories which shed
an ocean of blood
which craves for the mercy
utterly denied
I crave for liberty
I truly desire

As scavengers devour
the final bits
of my filthy carcass
to bloodless ruins
as a helpless soul
within this skinless corpse
I crave for the mercy
utterly denied
I crave for liberty
I truly desire.

Against the deafness
of my putrefying ears
I Heard the whispers
of your triumphant sword
to the beheaded warrior
of the empire of dusk
but even as your touch
lit up this earth
your iniquitous ignorance
to my deafening plea
muted my cravings
for the mercy siezed
muted my cravings
for the liberty decieved

Destined to die
a repugnant death
as I welcomed the scroungers  
to my final breath
I silently yearn
O divine one
to be enslaved no more
and betrayed by none
I silently yearn
O divine one
to be bloomed as dawn
not ever as sun

there are some
when they get angry
it creeps on them like
the frost. they don't
see it until it has seeped into the ground
and siezed the pipes hostage
they wriggle and bundle to stay
warm, but it always get in through a
hole on their gloved hand
or a exposed patch on their neck
a thick cotton scarf couldn't conceal.

others
when they get mad
it shakes them and
convulses through their veins
as if their blood has turned to
boiling, sputtering magma.
and they grab & pull their hair.
they may shout and explode,
dancing around obscenties,
and throwing fancy vases at white washed walls
but when the fiery seige is over, they may just sit
and wonder what fiend just beset their soul
and stared out through their eyes

few some still
hesitate, ponder.
fold their anger away
in an envelope. safely
and when they open it,
it may be white
bruised and creased, where irate thoughts skittered violently about to escape.
where
angry hands slammed it shut, gentle hands silently
reopened
and when their eyes peer in and see ashes and ice
where the anger; so flammable, so frigid, so uncontained;
raw energy in its true state and alone out of host, ignited and shattered
itself not them

and

the siege is over
as they pour the worthless contents out
of the folded, creased envelope.

Izak Walton, it was his fault!  I was hooked. I read and re read The Compleat Angler. I could have quoted chapter and verse. Something had to be done! there was a brook nearby, at the edge of the wood it's crystal waters contained Red Throated Sticklebacks, I was thinking of something bigger, my mind was full of fifty pound Pike and Carp as fat as pigs, goodness knows where they were to come from, at that age my mind only took one step at a time.  I needed to dam the brook, that was certain, I borrowed Dad's new *****, building a dam couldn't be that difficult, I found a good place to start, where there had once been a silted up pool, If I built a good dam where the brook ran between high banks, it would soon start to form a wide pool.  I started digging on Saturday morning and dug all day. Dad used to call me his "little digger" but he spelled it differently!  After digging all day, I stuck Dad's new ***** into the turf by the dam and climbed an Ash tree so that I could get a good view as the dam filled up, which it did, quite quickly. No one had seen me at work, apart from the mad horse, which used to come charging up from time to time, It had broken the legs of the farmers son, the year before, but I used to jump into a hole in the middle of a very prickly gorse bush, and wait till it got bored, after five minutes it would wander off and chase the geese on the other side of the field. Then work could continue for another hour or so.  I began to get excited as the dam filled and my thoughts turned to fish, where could I get some fish? while my attention was occupied with thoughts of large carp the farmer suddenly appeared walking towards the dam and looking particularly bad tempered. I have to say that he was not the least bit pleased to see the results of my labours! He siezed my dads new *****, which I had so carefully broken in and he cut the dam wide open!  I still remember the roar as the water gushed out of my dam. The farmer had not seen me, I was sixty feet up in the tree, his gaze was focussed on the things nearer the ground. He didn't like me and he wore clogs, they could hurt if if he kicked you, (I speak from  painful experience. )  "Bernard, do you know where my new ***** is?" I shook my head. "Well do you?"  "I can't say that I do dad". Oh the shame of it has haunted me ever since!  Next time I build something, I will need to find a better spot. A tree house might be just the thing! more anon.

echoes of ****** ghost town mysteries
  devolving into our lonely synergy
where we can constantly misdemean each other in our gutter schemes
of battling anger with dreams,
  never again to split the seams,
   never again to be seen

please, hear my plea.
i never knew what we could or couldn't be.
  i just wish you could see me
   i am what you almost are and yet everything you're not,
tie my tongue, twist my heart, knot it up and let it rot

"maybe i'll get shot" we stockpiled musings on dying young,
seemingly out of all the time we thought we bought
you are an alleyway thought bay,
  forever haunting me enough to keep all my other ghosts away

  "the world is ending in all my dreams"
  i crushed what i had left of you, you'd never let me stay
we were a walking paradox, never nothing,
always but a dream never to be siezed

"we"
what a lonely synergy

She was the most beautiful one
She could take the breath away and leave you without words  
From sunrise to sunset, she sparkled and mesmerized
She was a Princess, of royal lineage
Bedecked in multi colours
Her flowing gown was the brightest, purest azure
Sprinkled with precious stones of diamond and Amethyst
Her touch was soft and sensual
When she sang, the birds listened and the storms abated
And her heart, her pure heart, encompassed all who dwelled with her
She opened her house to nourish strangers  
And fed the poor with rich delicasies
She poured cool water into the parched mouths of the weary
And joyous wine into the cups of the downtrodden
Her own ******* gently suckled orphans
She made her scented gardens available to those who roam
And prepared the softest beds for those who were without abode
She never stopped giving
Yet, this world and strangers did not value her, did not love her
They were not grateful
They used her for their own ends
And plundered her belongings, even her own heart
Men were not content to gaze upon her loveliness
But siezed her violently with soiled sinews
They tore her adornment from her body
And leered greedily at her nakedness
They beat her prettiness into blood and smears
And burned her skin with torches
They mauled her ******* and drained them dry
They penetrated her and violated her
Leaving her in shame and degradation
And when they were satisfied, and their vile ***** had taken root
They left her **** and weeping
In anguish and near death  
And in her agony and death throes
She cried out for her Father
This world has come full circle
From darkness and watery surface
To darkness and smoke
This home which we call earth
Has filled our every need
This luxurious dwelling place, alone in the vast cosmos
Was perfect and pure  
It was a residence unmatched in the known universe
A home with all we need
The Landlord prepared it well
Built to the highest standards
With all amenities
And so many desirable things to please
And some of us tenants complied with it's demise in ignorance
While others, daring and arrogant
Used it, abused it and vandalized it
We have sullied the neighbourhood
And disrupted the peace
We have let it run into disrepair
The greatest property neglect of all time
We have gorged ourselves on the feasts that were left in the home
And tore up the fruit gardens and flower beds
We have turned it's garden into a ******* tip
But our tenancy is about to end
The lease has run out
And we failed in our stewardship of this beautiful world
For this pretty planet cries out for justice
For restoration
Who will save our earth?
Will the great and wise men of politics take a moment from their lunch meetings to act instead of speak?
Or will the gods of science humble themselves and refrain from tampering with nature,
Finding ever new ways to produce new things?
Do the entrepeneurs and mass producers still have conscience in their soul?
Or will they forge ahead advertizing yet more junk that we “need”?
Can protesters and hate-mongers breath new life into our world's lungs?
And will we accept our complicity, and repent?
Will the childen see tommorow, through the smoke and ash?
The earth cires out
She languishes and weeps glaciers that flood our lives
Her spine snaps with violent thud of explosion and shaft
And finally, she calls His name
For the “Ancient of days” has not forgotten
The benevolent Landlord is watching, waiting
His fury is restrained, for now
To allow us one more chance to change
He saw this all from afar, from far back in history
And he warned us all
He knew what the tenants might do  
And he has sworn
“He will bring to ruin those ruining the earth”
And He promises that some of us will be innocent
“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth”


All quotations from the Holy Bible

This world and life which we muddle through
Throws up those announced as heroes
Who's names engrave the rocks and halls
And speak of glories past
Yet accolades and power and art and fame
Are these enough to satisfy these hearts?
And what shall we, in our brief sojourn
Consider worthy of our thoughts and affections?
What gifts do giants us bequeath
That we should imitate their lives?
A Churchill, a Mozart, or Einstein's mind
Should we adore accomplishments done
As the legacy of humankind?
For never on our day of expiry
Would we regret a lost career
Nor count the missing sterile possessions
That clutter homes and hearts
But rather we would yearn for more
More moments spent in sweet embrace
With ones so precious and alive
Closer to these hearts are heroes found
Whose lives to posterity seem obscure
Yet offer glimpse of wonders in our soul
And trace that by which defines our goal
And so I recall the days of past
And soft familiar faces true
For what shall we, alone at last
Define the greatest human truth?
From cherry cheeks of childhood woes
To frailty and silver hair
With feet often entrenched in mire
Where struggle cannot free us for another step
Then weary, dusty, thirsty feet did trample many miles back home
Where soft warm arms and fires carressed our cares
Melting away the misery for one moment
They lost loves, endured wars, suffered sadness
Yet carried many through thunder and fear
Shared a bathtub full of tears
And faced the turbulent world as one
Despite poverty and pain
They danced and smiled
On the pleasant playground of seashores
Where shell and stone astound
We were mums and dads
Just like the real heroes we shared our lives with
We were friends
And we have learned so much
And gazed at glorious sun and moon
And bounced and leapt and touched the sky
And siezed a tiny piece of Heaven for our earth
For our short lives
Then drank summer's wine and winter's snowflakes
And tasted true life
For, because of them, we have found joy
Even among the bitterness
And ever shall we recall and rejoice
Because we were part of it all
Because we are
And above all other things
We have loved

nods, gracious,
quiet harmonious.

reborn gleam?
recalling the  dream.

wanting . . .
feeling.

siezed in wonder,
left to ponder.

sound  in  melody:
some  sign--suddenly!

no, don't be too curious,
it'll leave you serious!

heart cries,
time flies---

mind tries,
the eye sighs--:

words over ocean---
hope in motion.

truly harmless,
not a license for
    happiness.

look deep down inside,
beyond bounds of pride:

'no more excuses,'
the poetic mind muses

my hand grabs  your
   thigh,
but you left without
    a 'bye,'

ah-and to where 'lost?'
when I  need you  most?
     -by Hakim H. Kassim.
      (d.Jan.25.2022)

got myself a project its nothing but a curse
problems by the dozen things are getting worse
its a crawler tractor as old as old can be
everything is siezed nothing on its free

done a lot of swearing till the air was was blue
using lots of words that i never knew
it has been a curse a nightmare thats come true
hope its curse will go in a month or two


bought it to restore a have myself some  fun
hoping i can fix it.  once again will run
save it from the breakers at tractor heavens door
restore it once again to run again once more

it will take some time and some patience to
theres so many things that i have to do
make it run again like it did before
then its curse will end no cursing anymore

make it run again like it did before
then its curse will end no cursing anymore

Tears & oil colours blended
Moments flied & siezed
I'm pleased even when I feel freezed!