They push to fashion pain.
They tear to harvest tears.
They take to tighten strain.
They rule by seeded fears.
They lie to lacquer faults.
They bleach the record clean.
They sanctify assaults
And call their hunger “seen.”
They map in righteous red.
They sail on ghost-white cloth.
Pale hands above the dead,
Pale faces naming wrath.
They preach of light and grace.
They brand their conquest “right.”
Yet drain the human face
Until it blanches white.
They rise on borrowed breath.
On blood they will not claim.
Pale empires bloom from death—
And whiten into shame.
Her hair is black, her look is sad,
her body is slender and very small.
Screams.
She screamed thousands of times, to the sky, to the clouds, to the wind, or to the sea,
but no one has answered... they all have gone.
Her mother, her father, all who were on the boat have gone, but she survived.
Silence.
The sea makes so much noise, the seagulls cry in the wind, the waves come and go, but not a single word.
No human face... just her, the rocks, and the water.
How much time has passed?
Who knows?
She has done nothing wrong.
She left her country seeking freedom.
Yes, freedom!
Freedom to be herself.
She woke up in a hospital.
She's alone.
Her dreams are shattered.
No family.
Just a sky, a sun, and a moon to protect her.
To Live Again
She needs to reborn and to grow...
And thanks to those who today believe in humanity, she will succeed.
In trembling streets where silent voices plead,
We build our law on dignity — not fear.
Each soul, each breath, a claim to equal need,
Justice whispers soft for all to hear.
When rights stand firm against the tyrant’s reign,
We sow the seeds of trust in broken lands.
No longer bound by chains of grief and pain,
Peacemakers walk with open, healing hands.
In courts and councils, truth begins to bloom,
Where accountability finds its place.
Through shared respect, we clear away the gloom,
And give tomorrow’s dream a human face.
For lasting peace is more than quiet nights —
It lives in rights, in hope, in shared refrain.
When each life matters, wrongs we dare to right,
We forge a world where love prevails again.
We raise the quill in trembling hope,
Not merely scribes of passing days,
But fighters for the silent rights
That echo through the darkened ways.
We shatter walls built on despair,
Aspiring toward the promised light;
In every human face we find
The spark of peace, the call to fight.
We scan the ruins of old systems,
Discern the false from what is true;
We cast aside the stale old feed
That numbs the soul and dims the view.
From ash we craft a soaring hymn,
For every voice that broke in fear;
We honor dignity and life,
In every breath and trembling tear.
The quill becomes our sword of soul,
Steadfast when hope begins to fade;
In God’s own love we find the ground,
On which our human rights are laid.
The truth march on in patient seeds,
Small acts of mercy, loss, release;
Till peace arrives as gentle dawn,
And every heart finds its release.
"Beautiful people are not always good, but good people are always beautiful." - Imam Ali (a.s)
.................................................
Real beauty shines from the inside out;
Without goodness, beauty harbors doubt.
A kind heart helps real beauty to show,
For goodness makes its light truly glow.
Beauty alone makes none truly pretty,
Goodness, with kindness and some pity,
Blends wisdom with strength on a human face—
A blessing bestowed by special grace.
When beautiful people are also good,
Then their beauty is without falsehood.
It becomes a divine and earthly joy—
Too pure a feeling to ever cloy.
In the blackened halls where silence wails,
Goya's specters tread their trails.
Dark whispers coil through the heavy air,
Haunted strokes of despair and despair.
A Saturn devours, his time undone,
His brittle hands eclipse the sun.
The Witches gather, their secrets deep,
While faint stars weep where shadows creep.
Across the stars, a melody soars,
Yearning hearts on celestial shores.
A lover's touch, a forbidden flame,
Burns bright through the void of shame.
The violins cry, the flutes reply,
A tragic waltz beneath the sky.
But in the depths of cosmic night,
Hope flickers faint, a fragile light.
Two worlds collide, both dark and grand,
A trembling brush, a guiding hand.
One paints despair, the other grace,
Yet both embrace the human face.
For in the end, through fear and fire,
Art and music lift us higher.
Where darkness reigns and starlight wanes,
We find the beauty in our pains.
She was a country
bewildered by 14 years of decline
Bankrupted Councils
because of public cuts
now face council tax surcharges
The national NHS floundering
the beggars on the street overwhelming
A human face seemed to be bypassed
knife crime out of control
boat refugees thwarted
in hotels
Rwanda a breach of the ECHR
I'll write you all a recipe,
For peace and harmony,
Be content in your own company,
Worse things than single, you see,
Smile at happy memories,
We'll bake peace cakes for thee,
Take some kindness and unity.
Stir with love and amity,
Sprinkle with divine grace,
Cook, serve to each human face,
With a trillion trees to hug,
Less of this smoggy fug,
Folks, do not give up the ghost,
Universe sends blessings the most,
Enjoy your prime today,
Peace fill find its way!
Smiles for all of you,
That's my recipe, over to you!
Today in silence, let’s glean,
ratio of golden mean;
a Fibonacci design,
with which all life forms align.
Examine the human face,
as this secret code of grace;
nature displays life’s imprint,
which we may call, God’s footprint.
Eggs, seashells, trees and flowers,
yield to God who empowers;
the shapes and forms they display
and to the cosmic drum sway.
The Word or the cosmic sound,
makes galaxies go around,
in orbits that God has willed,
by vibrations He has trilled.
All existence manifest,
is by God’s sublime touch blessed
and love’s pattern now is clear,
of how we may draw Him near.
I clasp my hands upon the cheeks of a sinful man's cheeks defenestrate him as he flies in the sky away from the house he was cast out of only for me to feel dysentery my belly opens up. From the protruding from my belly, a tumor with an almost human face vomiting serpents coalesced with the head of iguanas and connected to my tumor. The man whom I threw came back tenfold a battle ending with one kingdom standing to bare witness to something older coming for us all.
God's Been Good
Yes, I realize for many He has
no place.
But we pray for those to find His
grace.
To stop adoring their human face.
So much in good in life to do!
To tutor, to visit the ill.
And stop thinking as poets we
are kings and queens of the hill.
There are those in nursing homes,
who might like a visit or two.
Or soldiers who sacrificed their
bodies that are injured, for you!
Maybe our neighbor down the
street, the widow, lonely she sits.
Alas, we are obsessed with our
poetic mindset?
Your parchment and pen, will
not go away,
If, from a few feet of your desk
stray.
"And if you do good to those who
only do good to you, what credit
is that? Even sinners do the
same!"
Why do we comment to only
those who comment to us?
Why not jump into the Soup,
full force?
Realizing God is our source?
October 5, 2023
Quite on the hill. Faceless children run around by a cave who calls them in with a signal straight and gazed. Walking a concurrent line with a retinue firefly disperse into a dome with a small wooden house in the middle. The great white and yellow king nested in his throne of groveling worms. A human face he has popping his face it does with eyes and teeth spouting out in its secretion. Drenched upon the childrens missing faces seeping like a mask denude showing their missing faces. Memories brought back light now seen for now children have been free.
The England I knew
When I came to England in the seventies, I settled
in a dreadful town called Elsmere Port
the saving grace, it had a library and was near Chester
and Liverpool.
My education was a woeful lacking substance I took
classes in counselling, philosophy, literature and of all
thing acting, an art that always has fascinated me.
The chasm between workers and bosses was not deep
even the Tory party had a human face
Then came the catastrophe, in the form of a female
called Margarete Thatcher.
Greed is right; there is no society, and workers were
encouraged to buy their council homes and social
housing virtually stopped.
Factories closed “get on your bike” was the mantra
England stopped being a pleasant place to live.
It got worse; BREXIT came and tore Britain apart
people had been seduced to think it was patriotic
to vote for Brexit. (To take the country back)
The decline is for all to see, foodbanks and poverty
among riches, and it was with sorrow I saw the once
fine nation falls into cynicism. and the murder
of NHS, a pearl in a tattered crown
I got it. Now I know something about you.
I know that you smile.
When you look into the mirror.
I know that you laugh when you open your eyes in the morning.
I know that you die every night to sleep.
Yeah I know that you die to sleep.
Are you a demon?
Residing in a human body!
I don't know that but,
I know that you put your glasses off
When you look in the mirror.
I know that you camouflage in rain.
I know that your eyes are in pain.
And I also know
That you don't eat humans, unlike us.
I know that you drink coffee in the day and poison at night.
Why you die to sleep?
I want to know.
I know that you're careless
You forget things, dates, meaning.
I know that you're a good reader.
You read faces,faces,faces.
But I also know you're a terrible writer.
I know that you can't even write your name.
By the way, what's your name?
I don't know that, either.
But there's something interesting that I know.
I know that you dream.
I got it.
You die every night to dream.
I used to know of sex as a gender
That gives differentiation to human face
Then my heart was a pure shelf so tender
Studying was all that have my heart's space
Male do be nothing than a masculine
Reliability paints him family's pride
Female no doubt is the peach feminine
Docility grace her price good for bride
But when the time has now come to its prime
The view about male and female changed
Which has been the cause of outrage sex crime
Provoking social control now deranged
Indecent dress isn't a YES to rape
Let's admire others in genuine agape
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