They are not headlines,
not numbers
stacked in columns of loss.
They are children...
running with paper kites
stitched from the scraps of yesterday,
drawing suns with broken crayons
on walls that no longer stand.
Their laughter once rose
above the call to prayer,
a fragile hymn
against the roar of falling skies.
Now, quiet shows them before their time
how to carry grief in tiny palms,
how to tuck emptiness close
as though it had been cradled in their chest all along.
Yet—
in the rubble,
a doll without arms still wears a smile.
In the dust,
tiny feet trace games
on streets the world has forgotten.
Hope is stubborn.
It hides in their eyes
flickering like a candle
protected from the wind,
whispering to us
if we tune our hearts to
their quiet voice,
...that childhood
should be a garden,
not a graveyard of dreams.
Remember them.
Not as shadows of war
but as children who deserve
to wake beneath an unbroken sky.
Lost Days
Lost in the darkness
lusting for a way out
Lurking in the blackness
longing for the tunnel
Blinking at the vague emptiness
stirring the hollowness
scaring the shadows
Scattering the darkened clouds
surfing for a ray of hope
Roaring at my doubts
as l map my way home
(I dedicate this to my battle of quitting nicotine)
Before I was anxiety with rage
Consumed by consumables
I finally forced consumables to retreat
I didn’t do it alone I had my angels
I can finally see the world with clarity
It isn’t so bad when your mind can breath
The irony with chemicals is toll one pays
First skipping a toll only later feel death
I am utterly distracted by the erratic
Pecking of the field mouse
That has found living with me to his advantage.
Still I want to write
That poem
That will make children laugh
Old men roll in the grass with lovers
And young women run in the streets naked
Singing Hallelujah.
I wait to meet you in the midnight of time
To scare the monsters with our passion.
NATURE FINDS ITS WAY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The crack in the sidewalk,
a stubborn line against the grey,
filled with green.
Not invited, not planned, just a seed,
carried on wind, finding purchase,
insisting on life.
A dandelion, maybe, or something tougher,
something that knows concrete yields,
e
v
e
n
t
u
a
l
l
y.
Think of that small rebellion
when the path ahead
feels like stone.
Remember the persistent green,
the quiet strength
that cracks the surface.
Nature finds its way.
You will too.
Rising each day even when it’s hard,
Open to the little joys that show up.
Walking through life one step at a time
Every instant showing me I’m alive.
Life is often fleeting. You hold it in your hand.
It slips right through your fingers just like so much sand.
And the harder that you grasp it the quicker that it goes
And what it all amounts to no one really knows.
I once saw a picture of a child in the sun.
Laughter there upon the lips, eyes so filled with fun.
I once saw a picture of a mother’s painful tears.
Live your life in moments, don’t worry about the years.
I once heard a story. A lesson to be learned.
Someone set a fire and everything was burned.
And there, beneath the ashes was a diamond wrapped in gold.
Though everything must perish, love will not grow old.
I remember when I knew you as a friend.
And now it all is gone but not forgotten.
I am broken in, i’ve learned
i have got no message to return
my ears ring, the streets sing
with your smile on displace
tomorrow takes today
A single pill rests on the counter--
quiet, small, almost polite.
I told myself it would stay that way.
But days grew thinner,
hours frayed at the edges
and the quiet promise began to hiss.
Friends laughed. I nodded.
My reflection wavered in the glass,
someone familiar yet gone.
The pull was slow - like water eroding stone,
soft at first, then urgent, unstoppable.
I chased the calm it offered,
unmindful of the shadows it left behind,
the nights pulsing with my heartbeat,
the mornings hollowed and quiet.
One day, I reached for air instead...
for the sharp taste of morning,
for voices that held me without judgment,
for a hand that said;
“You are not this. You are still you.”
Healing does not arrive in a flare.
It creeps softly, day by day
teaching the heart to see once more,
to taste the colors that were dimmed,
to carry the weight of the world
without letting it break the soul.
She walked through nights no one noticed
feet heavy, heart heavier.
The silence of the world felt overwhelming.
as if kindness had disappeared.
Then, without warning
someone reached for her...
steady, warm, unexpected.
The road behind her remained,
but she could finally move forward.
For nights she had slipped alone
masking grief with pale smiles
hiding pieces of herself -
that no stranger would ever see.
Her legs ached,
her body protested
and still she whispered:
"this journey is mine alone."
She found a quiet strength,
somewhere along the way.
As she moved forward,
she held one quiet truth:
even when the night is long,
even in the darkest times...
kindness finds its path.
A simple act of care can break through
the darkness,
and the light of a new day comes,
no matter how long the night.
When she finally stops,
she lifts her face to the sun
and carries one truth:
between falling and standing,
she found him...
and the light he gave her
will walk with her forever.
Very brutal by nature my mind can confirm,
Poetry marathoners need a cap laced with wisdom,
To grace the desired seats of battlescarred warriors,
The skillet must still burn hotter than Hades.
Surely Marathons are run with endurance and persistence,
So is this one, for my goals are lofty.
Though I lack great speed, power, and technique,
My oak must stand deep-rooted through the storms.
My drafts litter bins as torn scraps of junk,
Haters blot the ink of my masterpiece.
Negativity weighs on my frail shoulder,
Yet my resolve stands steadfast on aching feet.
But no one can deny good poems their glory.
Like smoke they escape all traps and dissipate,
Clutching throats to make their presence felt.
All I need do is write—and hope.
The songs that masterpieces sing
Are heard by the deaf and sung by the dumb.
Their rhythm washes away the dust of imperfection;
They heal the soul and soothe the mind of sorrow.
So, my pen, fill yourself with ink of perfection.
Write on this paper I lay before you—
Another poem no sponsor can deny the top prize.
Write before the last drop runs dry.
Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh
I am the one
greater than the stars
brighter than the sun
all angels are my subjects
and life my children born
be unconditional love
pride leads to scorn
many I have sent
to the blessed jewel of earth
evil cannot see
what humans are worth
evil cannot see
the beauty of a stream
I made it this way
they cannot dream
turn your imagination towards love and light
and heal humanity and the earths plight
I AM
I AM WHAT I SHALL BE
I KEEP MY PROMISES
AHAYAH ASHAH AHAYAH
Just because I don't post
Doesn't mean I don't write
Just because I don't publish
I still have dreams at night
Just because it's unspoken
Doesn't mean that I don't
Just because you won't say it
Doesn't mean that I won't
Just because I may want to
Doesn't mean that I would
Just because I still love you
Doesn't mean that I should
The things that we want
Sometimes we don't get
Just because we don't see
The plan fully yet
There's no harm in keeping
The flame still alive
In case I do make it
To one hundred and five
Feeling dead
Nowhere to turn
Dead beat ex
I'm stuck
No way of freeing myself
Finances so intertwined
Like a tumour
Attached to something vital
"We can't operate I'm afraid.
Too risky"
How did I let this happen?
So insidious
So slow
A parasite. Unseen, leaching, infecting, invading, taking, taking, taking.
Eventually, clarity. The alternative.
So often dismissed now better than the present.
But I must pay for my blindness.
I must pay the price for hope.
I cannot be set free
Like a prison sentence.
And, by the way,
Don't bother looking up
Don't pray or ask for divine help.
Help,
If there is any,
Is ground level.
Friends, family, gestures, kind words, hugs, a sympathetic emoji in a motivational text.
You've got this
You are strong
I believe in you.
No choice. Hold tight, wait for better days.
Nothing is permanent.
Lean into the love and the sun will shine again some day.
Plant a seed, watch it grow
How it happens, I don’t know
A little rain, a little sun
But I don’t know how it is done.
Slowly reaching for the sky
Still, I cannot tell you why.
Flowers, trees, weeds, and grain
Just don’t ask me to explain
There’s really just one need: plant a seed.
Plant a seed, dream a dream
Live your life, be extreme
Make a move, diversify
Just don’t ask me to tell you why
Reality from pretend,
You never know just where or when
Lawyers, artists, doctors, too
There’s really nothing you can’t do
There’s really just one need: plant a seed.
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