Smoke in the morning
Chilly anticipating
Brace to speak out there
Cats are meowing
Think felines are a burden
Ticked off still feed them
Endure the sunrise
Negotiating doomsday
Fumes call me dreadful
No love stains these walls
Thoughts resist less their purpose
Dust off my ashes
Stop all this chatter
What is the matter today?
Kindness is small talk
Disown soothing speak
Dialectics why so down?
Mocking defeats nouns
Discard peace with butts
Accept noon as it will be?
Smoke talk brings no joy
I offen soffen neether content nor intent,
eether explicit or implicit about
devices to rearrange things in
the Care-ah-beein Sea or
pahkin karz at Hahvad
in Bostin.
We are co-empathically wealthy,
at least potentially,
because our universal
polypathic polycultural
polyphonic engaging communions
polyvagally biosystemic
co-arise individually polynomial values
Healthy
when egocenters become re-sourced
re-centered
re-created
resonant with sacred transparent meaning
rediscovered
in secular vocational purpose
co-passionately healing
Co-intelligently restoring
bicamerally re-storying
dialogue bilaterally communicating
binomial heart-felt compassions
more than swollen anthro-elitist
dispassions
Of Truth exhaled
often engaged in deep listening
for integrity's potential Beauty,
Synergy's promised Trust,
Harmony's impassioned echoing
timeless Thrust.
The only readable book,
it's not dialectical ...
The book you read,
and wonders,
contests and raises
discussions ...!
But the right book,
or wrong it's also
as controversial as ...
The right is not eternally this way
the wrong may not only be so ...
The book is moment,
real moment,
but it also passes ...
Will be recycled, updated
not to die the content ...
Not read however rust
the mind ... read the book!
On the ground, stark still
The child immobile stared, saw
Its dead broken will
*
Songless feathers cold
Limping back from shivered tears
The bird speechless too
*
One bird flies no more
Death disshevelled to it clings
Like a silent heart
*
Each dying makes dust
Dust the silence of the song
Dust, death of a bird
*
No post mortem whys
Knowledge sorrows has no cure
Death cloud us with sighs
*
One tear glistened then
The mother tugged her away
Heart beating like wings
*
Dead before the church
In coldness, nothing flies now
In the silent skies
*
Hangs still the clod cloud
Air in air, a frozen will
Like a dead bird - falls
*
Inexorable
The mortal thread dangling dust
To featherless wings
*
A bird's desire fled
To this feathered crumbled heap
Shall I trust to sleep?