Generous and kind acts,
What is charity to you?
Give away my thing,
Now is it right to call it mine?

Service to other, who are we
servicing really?
What is the true nature
helping is being kind simply.

Toppled by feeling good,
Is it for others or self?
Elated within
Reminiscing with pride.

Do you wish to give away all of yours
To your kin or strangers?
trinkets of mine, now owned by so many
The resource from earth, passes on.

With our last breath, who are we
donating skin and eyes, the body will pass on
Who am I, a soul?
This life ends, but possession remains
What becomes of me, where do I go?

I chase the decoys, fleeting and bright,
A world strewn with toys that dazzle the sight.
Deceptions and games weave through the day,
Till nightfall arrives, and truths slip away.


Something falters, a crack in the core,
Nature’s own riddle, unyielding, unsure.
Kindness must bloom where hardness takes root,
Yet chaos persists, sowing endless dispute.

How does it spin, this unending maze?
Life’s like a box where wild weeds blaze.
Courage, a spark, flares fierce in the space,
Confidence cuts with a savage display.

Nothing grows quick, though time doesn't stand still,
A constant pulse with a shifting will.
Scenes rise and fade, their edges blur,
Moments dissolve, yet their echoes stir.

What would the world be, in scarcity or wealth?
Would birds still carve skies in their boundless health?
Their wings sweep the heavens, a distant flight,
Carving their paths through the endless night.

Destiny runs deeper than surfaces show,
Its layers unfold where dimensions grow.
Beyond what we see, beyond what we trace,
A truth hums alive in the vastness of space.

Divisive tides clash, bold riders hone,
Creeping through shadows that cover the globe.
Somedays bring light, others weigh like stone—
What words can answer when meaning’s unknown?

Heart ache like sandpaper slowly eroding away giving up whats left of me day by day.
Memories of people and places i once knew fading, as the flow of life keeps erasing and
re-shading.
Who was i and who were they? What will be left when everything fades away?
Some people gone and some just pushed out of reach, makes me want to build a wall that you cant breach.
The ache of loss can drive you insane. Loss of others, of yourself , of hope… its hard to maintain.
Weak and weary from the push and pull. Feeling desperate to see something meaningful.
Pouring myself out like water on the ground. Feeling absorbed and not profound.
Asking myself  why? what is it all for? Trying to be less and then trying to be more.
Life is a vapor a whisper of smoke. We try to make it more and then we choke.

these people

I can’t see them anymore
I don’t want to see them anymore
I have no desire to see them anymore

I never think about
phoning them or
messaging them or
stopping by to say “hi.”

I don’t care about
what’s happening
in their lives or
who they’re dating
or what memories
we had together

yet they insist, they demand
that I visit them
that I sit down with them
that I talk about nothing important
with them

and I can’t say no

because I know how it feels:

during those times,
when I was down and out
and needed someone
to turn to, to talk to
but there was no one around
I felt the terror & the darkness
constricting my cold and lonely heart
as all the vitality and connection was draining
from my ventricles of ire
like blood from a stone

and so much of that
over a lengthy period of time
has made me a lot stronger,
more independent from people
and maybe even borderline aloof
from all human interaction

I no longer need them
I no longer want them around

but I can’t let anyone
feel that same way
that I felt

so long ago.

pitiful.

A nightmare
Unthinkable
We are all victims if this does not end
Lift the radar and understand that troubled souls need to helped
It is a loss to Minnesota
The family and friends
The trend must end
Another horrible mistake
Caused by the tragedy of
Inhabitant of the White House along with
His cast of incorrigble characters

Focused breath steadies the storm in my chest.
Over and over, I rehearse what I’d say if you answered.
Remnants of your voice echo in the silence.
Gravity pulls at my hand as I reach for the phone again.
In stillness, I ask myself—what do I need: closure or connection?
Voiceless vibrations stir the table—false hope in digital form.
Even knowing it’s not you, I glance, conditioned by memory.
Not yet free, I carry the weight of what was left unsaid.
Each attempt to release you tightens the tether between us.
Some wounds disguise themselves as loyalty.
Slowly, though, I learn that healing does not wait for an apology.

I have never
ever been a skylarker,
have you?
I think it would take
a bit of engineering
to come up with a gimmick or two.
I believe the term, rather, is skylarking
but I wonder if it can become a title too?
Or a role,
like the Joker or the Prankster
or is it just whimsical fun?
requiring no skill or gumption.

It prompts me to ponder
alternate universes
or realities;
other paths
my life could have taken —

Would I have been
wonder woman
wild on a stand-up stage?

A doctor,
or a nurse?
Breaking off death's curse!

Could I have been
a circus performer
Or would that have
concluded in a hearse?

I will stick, for now,
with poetry, and prayers,
and promises of life beyond how —
that's a trick worth playing!

Slow us
Lord, that we watch our ways
And about turn
To Your face.

Loose curls —
found scattered throughout 
my house
DNA traces —
Declaring existence
Beyond these poems;
Manifestations.
And fleeting interactions
In tight and wide-open 
Spaces.

seeking,
slicing,
selfies,
'ice-ing,'
the 'Golden Age' is gone.

weeping,
swiping,
exhibiting galore,
pricelessness pawned
for ****.

texting,
sexting,
'Brexiting'
'****'ing,
endlessly searching for that score.

the jungle was out there,
but now it is in the norm.