When tending the garden or mowing a lawn be kind
and compassionate to your weeds. They deserve and
need your devotion. They only want to share: a leaf,
a flower, an aroma, root or seed. Do you discriminate
against a dandelion because of its color?
Do you realize, should you dig, yank, or sever its stem
you are committing a hate crime and demeaning them?
Knot-weed will provide so much that we need to prevent,
and treat disease. From Nettles to Chickweed, Kudzu,
Pig weed, Fern, Sorrel, Purslane, Thistle, Burdock, Joe
Pye Weed and Typha too. They thrive. These are a few of the
names that you probably forgot or never knew, that want to
come, live with and serve you. You do not need to purchase
seed or even plant, fertilize, water or 'weed' them.
She’s said one sentence to me
in the past 72 hours.
She hasn’t hugged me,
she hasn’t talked to me,
she hasn’t even looked at me.
What have I done?
She’s talked to other people,
everyone.
Except me.
The one who’s been there for her.
The one who knows everything.
The one who knows her days of almost committing.
Yet she’s not responding to me.
“I don’t want a hug from you!”
Green envious words set on fire
Ambitious absurd crazy with desire
Salty teal tears that cut like shears
Licorice fears blackened by years
Improvised strength in indigo words
Grossly exaggerated like flight of bird
How high it soars without your jealousy
Till you shoot it down committing felony
Instead of being wind of encouragement
Needing a win you embrace then lament
Gorging selfish spirit lacking red repents
Come you zionists of israeeeeel
I can see through your mask
I can see through your lies
I can see you are committing genocide.
Come you people of earth
I want you to shout
I want us to stop the horror
I want it to be no more
Come all you human beings
I know that you know
I know that you care
I know that you are well aware
What we are seeing
Before our very eyes
Is more and more lies
To cover up a genocide.
With fustigation to amelioration
We are led by The Law to The Gospel
And in turn The Gospel demands we keep The Law
No epistle of straw, there’s room in the hostel
(Because God’s style to the world is hostile)
We are led by the Spirit
To learn to endear it
Endear what? Is a sinful recitation
Learning to serve others in convocation
(God calls us and overhauls us
Whether one by one and together)
How do we inherit eternal life?
By loving our neighbor as serving kin
Who is our neighbor?
The one without (as in not having and not within)
The fustigation of Jesus Christ
Begs our amelioration of a fustigated life
And if a cruciform life is led
There must be blood, sweat and tears shed in stead
(Or instead of the evil in tow as is led here below)
Life is hard, there’s no doubt about it
Jesus’ words touted and shouted from the Cross
But serendipitously (and graciously)
When we lose, we don’t count it as loss
Are you willing to look like a hypocrite to the world without?
Are you willing to look at the hypocrite within?
(As He lived and then hung betwixt two of us)
Jesus took on this struggle without committing a sin
Light filters through my mind,
Finding my belief on the other side,
My eyes pried open wide,
Projecting a reflection of inside,
Like the changing of the tides,
We ride the Ebb & flow,
Knowing where we want to go,
Growing our own field of awareness,
Bear witness to what's before you,
Explore every avenue,
Travel to your inner core,
Theres's way more,
Then what you came for,
A portal to past information,
Is stationed within your cells,
Swelling with excitement to tell,
You never fell from grace,
They displaced your allegiance,
Implanted a grievance,
Committing treason to the soul,
As they gain control of the flow,
Knowing you'll watch their show,
Slowly starting to let go,
Letting others tell you what to know,
Growing afraid of your own shadow,
Tomorrow a scary place to go,
Blow off the dust,
Clean up the rust,
Trust in your unique design,
It was a gift from the Divine.
Simple and uncomplicated
Is the way l want to live
Appreciating and savouring
All the beauty this life has to give
~~~
Avoiding overload and keeping stress at bay
Simply…. doing the best l can
Not over- committing or feeling overwhelmed
That is my life plan
~~~~
I now have the time and lifestyle to do that
To make my choices and decisions that suit me
No longer answering to anyone
Free to enjoy life ‘my way’ being happy!
Yesterday…
As a cherubic child,
do you have grand dreams, Pete,
of becoming, when older (but not wiser),
famous world-over (as a war criminal)?
Today…
“No quarter, no mercy,” you say.
“Punching them while they’re down,
as it should be” and with
“no stupid rules of engagement.”
To “provide quarter” ensures safety
of all combatants who surrender,
who lay down their arms,
with their hands in the air.
“No quarter” means to take no prisoners,
to execute on the spot all those vanquished,
without mercy, without justice, without due process
(like blowing-up Venezuelan boats),
a war crime by Geneva Conventions,
and war crimes got Nazis hung decades ago.
Yet now you brag about committing war crimes
while promoting reckless, endless war?
Tomorrow…
Years to come, on Judgment Day,
the cosmic Courtroom is full
of the formerly famous mighty
as well as those “following orders.”
Please take your seat, Pete,
next to jealous Nazis.
It’s so good to be back in jail again
Do’in time with all of my friends
Figurin’ out ways we can escape
And while we’re out, committing rape
I looked at her pictures ,.
looking up at the ceiling... asked myself
Wasn't supposed to feel this...it is
Just another smile, right? Then
Why won't my heart shut up?
I care about her, .
Checked if she's online,
thought about her for a sec
checked on the last text she sent
Since when did I start waiting on texts?
Since when did silence started carrying a name?
I'm in love with her, .
Didn't mean to fall.
But she's in every poem now,
Even the ones I never wrote..
Archive May'25
While writing this, I remember feeling trapped between shock and surrender. As though I had caught myself committing small acts of devotion without permission. Returning to old messages. Staring too long at photographs. Inventing reasons to check whether someone was there. Oh This appears harmless in isolation but, when gathered together, it's not too healthy. Yk there is a strange horror in realizing that someone has become important to you. The moment a feeling stops asking for entry cz it has already moved in. Like finding a candle burning in an abandoned room and realizing someone has been living there much longer than you knew.
Imagine if they really knew you…
What you are going through
What you actually feel
Pain
Imagine if they really knew you…
Imagine if you could see what people think about you.
What to change about yourself
Make people think good about you…
Imagine if you had one wish.
One wish that would fix everything
A wish that would help you overcome your fears
Imagine you had one wish…
Imagine if they knew what you wanted to do…
How much you hate yourself
And having to fake your smile
Imagine having a blade to hand…
What would you do?
Imagine how they would feel about you…
Imagine how they would cope with your death.
Imagine if everyone was equal…
No young girls would be committing suicide
No one would be faking their smile
No one would be depressed
Imagine if life was perfect
Imagine if dreams came true…
Imagine having one wish
A wish that would fix everything
A wish that would make people stop hating you
Imagine having one wish…
“Post Pep Comics”
In this time,
there are no children -
we refer to them as the 'undead'.
The young watch on
while their gods war on, it’s all televised,
committing abominable atrocities, war crimes.
Like ancient souls held in the palms
of the war machine they watch on
like zombies, vacant things
scrolling, weighing their relevance
against those dressed in designer ozempic scales, while worlds away
the third-class child attends their lessons in starvation,
surviving death and bullets
trafficked and war torn, raped and
psychologically taken,
click bait;
bleeding into the small tight margins
of Western comics where the Eagle always wins.
Archie and Jughead dispense their puerile rules,
rating us like commodities, stocks that rise and fall;
it’s all entertainment
after all.
Candide Diderot. ‘26
Life seems to be on a time schedule
Depart here to arrival there
A stop watch to nowhere
Precise timing
Rush to everywhere
The long and short hand have accelerated
Timing to catch up in maneuvering
Humans are not an electronic device
We are flesh and blood
Every given step calls for movement
Timing is continuous components and humans have a pause
Every day calls for an agenda
Thoughtful possibilities
Time keeps moving
It is not easy to keep up the pace
There are times when feels they are in a race
Race against time
Tick tack being on the more
A schedule has been made committing to time
Today the present
Tomorrow the next
Doing it all again
Time doesn’t stand still
There is so much to fulfill
Time seems to want command and demand as a response
Test of time
Gaining a factor
Time to capture.
RAIN-LIKE FLY BY DROPS
Here outside
Graveyard silence,
A large gliding bird
In sky surveillance:
Walk with me
And feel all of which
I shall likewise feel
As the bright sun
Is up and out,
The temp is down,
And the chill is here:-
Such strange weather.
Is the devil’s wife
Committing sin again…?!
Oh, hell no!
What’s falling
Ain’t no damn
Falling raindrops!
Whew, warm and stinky!
It was so sad; she was only sixty-nine my friend said.
I was glad we were on the phone, so she could not see my expressions.
nothing sad about a sixty-nine-year-old with dementia dying in her sleep.
dying slowly in a mean, horrible cancer death when you are two is worse.
A young person committing suicide is worse.
A sixteen-year-old who texts and crashes their car is worse.
A woman with dementia dying peacefully in her sleep is grace.
I keep these thoughts to myself.
My father had dementia; it is not a Ferris wheel ride.
My mother was begging for death.
Cancer went from her lungs to her bones and her brain.
That is a horrific death.
Dying peacefully in your sleep at sixty-nine
this is what most of us can only hope for.
Instead, we are taken young and in brutal manners.
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