Fibonacci sequence, Dali’s curious kind
          Last Supper lingering
     our photo there easy to find

The Golden Ratio in nature
         galaxies, hurricanes, cones of pine

Which clearly leads to the question:

     Is the Universe an Idea
           In God’s mathematical mind?

The world needs to be reformed
but by what and whom?
words run into hundred--millions
memoranda signed in some secret room

mountains of papers over time
pile to the ceiling one upon another
handshakes exchanged and freely flows
the champagne--none cares to remember

wars and conflicts proliferate
in every nook and corner
ammunition factories run overtime
rushing to meet the latest order

homelands destroyed and starvation pervades
families are displaced and loved ones are split asunder
day and night shells and bullets deaden every hour
every dream and hope for peace they shatter.

Saying yes or no
is equally hard
two forces are at work-
not just the brain but also the heart.

I found myself
Getting lost in your eyes
The same way
I've looked at the stars
Since I was 7

And every second
Feeling like a million years
Heavy with time
I sink deeper and deeper
While you raise me up

I found myself
In your eyes
Through your darkening gaze
This must be love-
This intoxicating feeling.

I am not diagnosed with anxiety,
But I know it is there.
I do not take pills,
But perhaps I should.
When I sit here with my thoughts
I know I should be doing something.
I cannot disappoint people
I cannot fail.

I diagnose myself with anxiety,
And the anxiety is you.
Instead of pills,
I reach for the bottle of liquor.
When I sit here with my thoughts,
I know I should be doing what you want.
I cannot disappoint you
I cannot fail.

Is a poet still a poet
If they do not write?

A journal gathering dust,
But a yearning to write.
Am I still a poet
Without my inner light?