he is always mad at his own child
for the stones that come his way
but his child will forever be grateful
for what he has done for him

he is always mad at his own child
the one he raised under his roof
to make him into a man, only to
crush him under his own trauma

now grown into an adult
he wishes to run away to a place
where land stretches upwards into hills and peaks
and there are valleys to jump into

Seriously I am not sure
This uncertain future
Are we this close to the doom
I feel disaster after disaster
And I fear I'll hear next is BOOM!

This close to my place
this close to losing everything
humanity to turn to its end
back to being primitive
it will be back to **** and live
A skill I can not compete in.

The air hangs heavy, thick with dread,
Of untold stories, silently bled.
A ticking clock, a muffled sound,
As ancient fears begin to unbound.
This fragile peace, a thin veneer,
Hides the true chaos drawing near.
I watch the news, a constant stream,
Of broken hopes, a fading dream.

Each headline screams a chilling call,
As shadows lengthen, threatening to enthrall.
The ground beneath us starts to sway,
Will dawn truly break on a brighter day?
For years, they pulled the strings from shadowed rooms,
Whispering chaos into quiet blooms.

They redrew borders, stirred up ancient strife,
A grand design, shaping every life.
The rivers diverted, the forests laid bare,
For profits hidden, beyond all compare.
They thought they mastered the delicate art,
Of playing God, with a calculating heart.
But something shifted, a tremor deep within,
A rising current, where their reign grew thin.
Now it's out of their control,
The nature will take the toll.

i feel their eyes on me
and can't help but wish
they were yours
your stare always enough
to set me alight
pinning me in place
a lamb longing for the wolf
for only you
can capture me so wholly
like prey greedily awaiting the hunt
their eyes find mine
and all i see is you.

One can say : "Tell us the truth!"
And I long to want to
but how is it best to do ?

I find it residing deep inside
But my ability is lacking to make it come alive

So I cast out examples
that lay alongside
Heavenly meanings
with Earthly ties

Proverbs , riddles , and saying so wise
Make it easier to see and feel the truth that's disguised

Sometimes it hard to separate the truth
Then one must turn into a quizzical sleuth

But for the one that knocks on the door
A new world opens for them to explore

There was once a child
born beneath the sign
of unburial.

She carried too much—
not in arms
but in tethered memory.
Things with no names,
only weights.

A cracked watch
that ticked in reverse.
A button from a coat
that no one had worn
in three generations.

A feather
from a bird
dreamt once
by her grandmother,
never seen again.

She believed—
as those marked by absence do—
that keeping meant remembering,
and remembering meant
nothing would vanish.

Others crossed her path,
offered to help unfasten the straps.
She refused.
They did not know
which talismans bled
and which only looked like wounds.

So she walked.
Through salt seasons,
through bone-rattling frost,
through forests with no floor
and skies that never asked her name.

The bag grew heavier.
She grew cleverer.
Silent.

And then—
on a day that wasn’t special,
under a sun that wasn’t kind—
she set it down.
Not as surrender.
As an experiment.

The earth did not crack.
The ghosts did not scatter.
Her shadow did not abandon her.

She sifted the contents.
Some were dust.
Some were still singing.
Some curled away like dried petals
and begged to be left behind.

She took a key.
She took the bell.
She left the rest
for the moss.

She walked on.

Not lighter, exactly—
but less governed
by the shape
of her grief.

Go elsewhere
I'm not your man
unlike the others
I can't pretend-

to your chorus
my ears I can't lend
leave me as I am
your song I can't chant

Hail the vortex
that twisted swirling mass
drawing all to the centre
******* life from what surrounds it
to feed its hungry, needy, greedy, maw,
unstoppable and untamed,
malign, malignant,
universal force of destruction
or shall we call him Mr President