Never conflate
money and love
The one hates the other
when push comes to shove
Never confuse
false pander for care
The almighty dollar
— unable to share
(The New Room: September, 2026)
A silent scream spreads through the night,
A bittersweet joy in the darkness,
In a world of sour sweetness,
Joyful sadness waltzes bright.
A deafening whisper calls us near,
While noisy silence fills the day;
Jumbo shrimp and icy flames,
They play their little big matches.
Living dead and peaceful strife,
A false truth in everyday life,
An awkward relaxed grace, a surprise,
Truthful lies hide in plain sight.
With cruel kindness, we laugh as we cry,
with open secrets that`re not hidden,
A false reality touches the air,
An uncertain certainty spreads apace.
In shameless honour, a giggle grows,
As chaotic order settles,
Across untimely time and space,
Where grave funny oxymorons lie.
A smile he used well
fooled us all,his final act
curtain closed,his final show
Copper bones clanking with the sound of screams far off.
Surrender is the only option I have.
Taking it all to Jesus I kneel and know he has me covered.
Washed in the blood of God himself I am forever joined by Yeshua.
Trusting in perfect peace I am guided by grace.
Planes continue to fly over head.
Thunder crackles through the silence.
The rain hitting the window cools down the summer heat.
I am aware of my own sense of self.
Shackled to my reality I belong as the center of my own experiences.
Echoes of consciousness felt from a first person perspective.
Aware of my limited gnosis I can only rest in my faith in Jesus.
The colonial masters have gone
Our self-crowned kings rule now
Citizens have gone skin and bone
Like animals we exist somehow
Open your ears and mind, before you open your eyes ' Be informed of humanitys dis-guise..As the Greeks
Gave gifts to Troy, you will notice the
Same old hackneyed ploys, food parcels
To the dissposessed, bulk bought could
Cost? ten to fifteen dollars, certainly no
Less.. Yet the mirrorless action of giving
Billions, to fund wars destruction its in
The trillions.' Of course no bankers would
Be involved in such, or non profit orgs..'
Now should that read organ-isations.? I
Wonder much.? Yet should i not wonder?
Just bow my head, hunch shoulders and
Shrug.? With no-thing said.? Untill I am in
Truth; null and void' quite dead.!
Friends may be wondering
why I pay more
attention to true romance
since I was told,
" Work your way to kindness
and appreciate it more than gold. "
Falling too easily
and too quickly
for someone could be silly.
I should have listened
to my mom, for once
not given her a nasty look,
suddenly sped away;
she meant well, but it didn't stick.
I kept spreading my bed
with scented rose petals, invited
beautiful girls over
on long days of hot summer
and took their innocence away.
Did they understand their mistake?
Did I understand I was bad?
For every tear they shed,
no young heart cried and bled
more than they did,
they were angels caught in a Paradise
of unexpected surprises;
it opened their teary eyes
and made them see the real me...
showing them a false romance
that didn't make sense.
I played the role of king
and felt happy.
Stubborn boys out there
don't ever try this trick,
playing with false romance
harm innocent girls,
it's unkind, it's a nasty fix.
all naughty boys shouldn't be remembered
and loved by us, but pushed aside;
they are the cause of false romance.
In a more joined up world,
this it the type of reporting drainstream media bring.'
Its distorting.
From 2020 have your eyes been opened
One world government aims are for our world to be more than broken.' They have
Solutions to solve whatevers gone wrong?
I just wish they would stop singing the same old sad song.'
Competence is seldom loud—yet confidence often is.
A charismatic smile may persuade a crowded room that wisdom has arrived,while judgment quietly waits outside.
Psychopathy,hidden beneath a layered mask,borrows the language of empathy without carrying its weight.
Its mirrors reflect only what others long to see.
The victim,neither wholly believed nor wholly forgotten,drifts between the sea and the sky—where truth dissolves into distance,and horizons become courtrooms of uncertainty.
To the practiced eye,the mask is never the face.
Charm is not conscience.
Persuasion is not integrity.
Performance is not compassion.
The sea remembers every foot print washed from its shore.
The sky remembers every silence that no witness heard.
And some where between them,where evidence struggles against illusion,stands the fragile human soul,waiting for perception to surrender to truth.
Friends may be wondering why I pay
more attention to true romance,
since I was warned and told,
" Work your way to kindness,
and appreciate it more than gold. "
Falling too easily and too quickly
for somebody seems crazy. "
I should have listened
to my mom for once,
not given her a nasty look,
suddenly sped away;
she meant well, but it didn't stick.
I kept spreading my bed
with scented rose petals,
invited beautiful girls over
on long days of hot summer
and took their innocence away.
Did they understand their mistake?
Did I understand I was bad?
For each tear they shed,
no younger heart cried and bled
more than they did;
they were angels caught
in a Paradise
of unexpected surprises,
It opened their teary eyes
and made them see the real me,
showing a false romance
that didnt make sense;
I played the role of king
and felt happy.
Stubborn boys out there,
don't ever try this trick;
playing with false romance
harms innocent girls:
it's unkind, it's an awful fix.
All naughty boys
shouldn't be remembered
and loved,
but despised
and pushed aside;
they are the cause
of false romance.
Friends may be wondering
why I pay little attention
to romance since I was told,
" Work your way to kindness
and appreciate it
more than gold;
falling too easily and too quickly
for someone seems crazy."
I should've listened to my mom for once,
not given her a naughty look
and suddenly sped away;
she meant well, but it didn't stick:
I kept spreading my bed
with scented rose petals,
invited beautiful girls over
on the long days of hot summer
and took their innocence away.
Did they understand their mistake?
Did they understand I was bad?
For each tear they shed,
no young heart cried and bled
more than they did;
they were angels caught in a Paradise
of unexpected surprises.
It opened their teary eyes
and made them see the real me,
showing them a romance
that didn't make sense;
I played the role of king
and felt happy.
Stubborn boys out there,
don't ever try this trick,
playing with romance
harms innocent girls;
it's unkind, it's an awful fix.
Should naughty boys
be remembered and loved,
or be despised and pushed away?
They are the cause
of false romance.
don't let foolishness stain your pride!
"It takes a real heart to write forevermore." By Poet
Here I sit with pen in hand,
staring at a blank notepad.
I need many letters,
to make my words come alive.
I thought I was a writer,
but as I sit here I wonder.
Poems come from the love of writing,
writing about the past or about the present.
Poems can be true or false,
some will make you cry and others will make you laugh.
True writers write from their heart,
as the ink rushes through their veins.
Now the words flow faster then I can write,
don't think, just write.
The writer and reader are both in love,
in love with letters, words, sentences and reading.
Now I am writing away,
forevermore.
Selling the sizzle
and not the steak
Milking a lie
universities take
In debt-ridden wastelands
they prey on our youth
With worthless diplomas
— that mortgage untruth
*****
Whims That Betray
He sobs false remission
to skirt admonition
as his Guardian Angel
smiles ...
“What’s with the tears
after so many years
and choices rejecting
denial
“You did what you pleased
without Heaven appeased
and lay prostrate
feigning regret
“This game isn’t played
at the whims of betrayal
And called you must pay
— for what tears can’t correct”
*****
Love Centered Circle
The things that I’ll miss
are the things I looked past
Those small hidden moments
in memory that last
Giving up little
to chase what had burned
Distracted I forayed
the magic unlearned
Now distant a loner
I look for those tracks
I made through greed’s sand
to find my way back
Because there in the center
holding all that we give
A love centered circle
— where joyousness lives
(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)
[You, the speaker, sit on a chair.
Back straight. Hands still.
The room is too quiet.]
I became a fault line
people swore they felt tremble—
even when the ground
never moved.
[Lift your eyes. Don’t move anything else.]
A rumour sparked,
struck like flint
against my name.
My silence—
they shaped it into a monster,
a shadow they insisted
had teeth.
[Lean forward, elbows on knees.
Voice low.]
I walked into the courtroom
like stepping into
a lion’s throat,
and still walked out
whole.
But echoes cling.
Smoke remembers
what fire never touched.
[Stand slowly.
Let the chair creak]
So hear me now.
My silence
was a drawn blade,
not surrender.
[Step away from the chair.
One step only. Stand tall]
This—
right here—
is the line carved clean
through the dust.
And I do
not
move.
A Lineage of Vultures from Hell
I crossed an ocean to unearth my roots,
To find the branches of my hidden tree.
Thirty-eight strangers wearing friendly suits,
Thirty-eight wolves who smiled to welcome me.
In that old village, secrets wore a mask,
Their cunning eyes disguised as open doors.
But stripping me was their intended task,
To leave me bleeding on their wooden floors.
"You're filthy rich," they hissed into the cold,
While robbing every treasure that I kept.
They traded blood for silver and for gold,
And showed no mercy.
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