Sitting in this gritty hell
sandbags piled around fox hole
as rising moon begins to swell.
I'm dug in like a great big mole.

Not far away sit some good friends
they are about as safe as me
hoping we'll have peaceful ends.
I wish I could see just one tree.

Suddenly a fiery line
leaps out from a nearby dune
then explodes ending its flight's whine.
Peaceful vigil ends too soon.

As I wake up
I need to refill
the morning glass of hope
to back me through
the long day's turmoil.

so I decided
to plant a rose
blooming with prayers.

I had nowt to say
and lay noiseless,

Yet,
I heard the whispering
of innocence depraved,
awakening to terror.

Gasping infernos
of white smoke churns
turning lungs to pitch,
gods and men look on
despairing the child

Family is cleaved away
by the feel of the steel,
swirls rotate the bulb,
hypnotized to their grave,
elegiac lines cannot convey.

Children run the night
forgotten in the gush
of Ice burned to fire,
parents crave the blaze.

Petals have melted. At first,
they were blossoming clouds,
then wandering swirls,

completing the cycle,
they are now transparent,
glistening scales on the road.

On the sloping shoulders
the asphalt is black almost oily.
The rain is over.

River has blown up. It stands
in every crevice
reflecting the sky.

And in one of them is my face
on the background of
trembling branches

and emerald leaves.
Or maybe it is my hair entangled
with the late spring

Poetry shoes,
kinda flashy, it's what I choose,
made in Guatamala,
by some poor seamster fella,
the colours of it's outer skin,
stir strange thoughts from deep with-in,
from the depths of my mind,
only to find,
they got me on the go,
as my words start to flow,
to new homes whoever will hear,
many pass by, my words may bring a tear,
or a smile from a memory past,
as good feelings get cast.
Well I just love my poetry shoes,
there se fine and they come in two's!

reconciliation begins with recon
the military observation
of a region
to locate an enemy
or ascertain
strategic features

because since practically
the beginning
there has been
a strategic divider
like Hitler
or Cover Girl magazine

a fork-tongued genius
with everything wrong
to say

reconciliation
however many people are involved
always has one more
with horns

who doesn’t want us
back together again

and who probably won’t go down
without a good fight

From a violent toothache,
I was holding a swollen cheek,
As I dug near the jujube tree,
Wishing to plant some seeds.
Getting my genteel fingers muddied up,
I turned over the chilly ground.
O, I do remember this much,
That cold day, that evening,
In the fresh-dug hole, there was
A worm wiggling inside.
And that moment, behind the eaves down low,
The moon came up as if to slither up
Behind a woman's ear — and that's how
It came up, the moon.

Related fundamentalism
Hands off or no hands absurdism
Counterproductive savagism
The calling card of extremism

Voyeurism wrong, spying divine
Stealing tort, usurping in line
Assault misdeed, torture benign
Killing crime, massacre is fine

Governments that indoctrinate
Some states falsely incriminate
Other regimes invalidate
Occupiers exterminate

Full stop to state adventurism
Eschew unilateralism
Reject rogue nation nihilism
No neocolonialism

in the jungle of my mind
i write invisible thoughts
which no one likes to read.
only crickets sing them at night
serenading for me
one of my songs

"darkness is the light
when the world goes to sleep
in solitude listen to the breath
most precious to life.

in this world you came alone
you shall leave alone in time
darkness is the light
to walk alone in peace".