Phone-diction
Became a conviction
Everyone is bound
Without exception

Phone-world
Offers no restriction
It's a convenient space
No eviction

Phone-time
Equals the injection
Of dopamine
There's no rejection

Phone-crime
Doesn't yet exist
Each year a new smartphone
Seems hard to resist

A phone back in time had this function:
Connection,
These days oftentimes - it's the opposite action,
In search of warmth, love and appreciation,
We lose ourselves in phone-solation.

I sit in a trance as the morning sun sifts through the porch window.  Music from a Carolina wren taunts the world with a glorious tweet.

My wife invades my trance, “Look what Amazon brought me.”

My reply, “That’s nice, honey."

My eyes fixed on a headline, “Colleges are cautious about graduation speakers who might provoke the government!”

Freedom of speech, where have you gone?
Are you hiding in the canyons of the Appalachian Hills?
Concealed in the wheat fields of Kansas?

Will ICE deport the songbirds to Latin America
because they sound like freedom?

A bouquet of flowers is a sweet gift,
peonies pink, roses red, orchids white.
Stems neatly trimmed, wrapped and delivered swift,
a sign of care, igniting new light.
But be wary of ill-fated decisions,
of carnations, tansies, roses – yellow.
Of clumped, wilted bundles, inner collisions.
A sign, that love will not be what you sow.
Maybe, instead, find the seedlings for you,
and remember every flower can grow.
Water, sunlight, and the will to stay true,
could be enough, to see them bloom and glow.
And while flower language loses voices,
remember your right – chase your good choices.

You see what lies before,
Yet chase what could be more.
The simple stands concrete,
But ease eludes your feet.
No space to find complete.
Dreams shape what might unfold,
Yet quake where thoughts take hold.
You see, you know, you stall
A foe that builds a wall.
No fight can break its call.
Time bends, it carves, it breaks,
A paradox that takes.
In shadows, thoughts conceal
The paths you long to feel.
You row through waves unreal.
Infinity’s a trap,
A boundless, woeful map.
It twists what minds can know,
And kills where thoughts still grow.
Let ignorance bestow.
To stop, you must let go,
Release the undertow.
The void’s last kiss will miss
If will can break this bliss.
Step back from thought’s abyss.
Beyond the self, it lies
A truth no mind defines.
To name it is to bind,
To seek it is to grind.
The mystery’s unconfined.

by Amon（2025.1.15）

I am in love with speech,  
and expression unchained, unfettered—  
though I may stay silent for years, listening but never speaking,  
lips pressed tight,  
letting no flat tone escape my mouth.  

Yet I know  
my heart, my soul  
will never lie to me.  

I am in love with freedom—with pouring out thoughts,  
with words, with grammar, with emotion,  
and with lively, lilting cadence,  
fluent and fervent in debate and speech.  

All I want  
is to say all that needs saying.  
All I want  
is to talk unbound by external rules—  
nothing more.  

But truly,  
I must confess:  
I love speech because I love freedom;  
I love freedom for what it carries—  
that innate right granted with our first breath.

A New World I See
I see a world not built on chains,
But minds that question, break the reins.
Where hearts are free to roam and soar,
Not bound by rules, but longing more.

The world we know is cracked and scarred,
Where truth is bent and dreams are barred.
The wolves above, they feast and lead,
While beneath, the sheep must bleed.

Yet I see a world where minds can thrive,
Where freedom's spark keeps us alive.
Not chaos born from hearts that burn,
But love and truth we’ll fight to learn.

Still, there’s a darkness in our veins,
A hunger deep, a thirst for gains.
For power, control, the will to rise—
We mask it well, but still disguise.

Two worlds we face, both dark and light,
One bound by fear, one free of fight.
The wolves will lead, the sheep will fall,
But will we rise above it all?

A world of power, a world of pride,
A world where we don’t need to hide.
A choice to rise, to build, to free,
To claim the world that’s meant to be.

But the cost is high, the price we pay,
For those who twist, for those who sway.
They'll take our truth, they'll take our soul,
And use our freedom to control.

Still, I see a world where love’s the key,
Where minds are sharp and hearts are free.
We hold our fate, we choose our way,
And with each step, we light the day.

We’ll walk the line between the wolf,
And in our hands, the power to pull.
From darkness into light we rise,
With truth and love as our disguise.

We are not beasts, we are the ones,
The chosen few, the many sons.
And if we fall, we rise again,
In a world reborn by love, not sin.

The answer’s ours, the choice is clear,
Will we fight or give in to fear?
I see a world where we can be,
More than wolves, more than the sea.

So I choose a world that’s born from mind,
A world where truth and love align.
A world where we can truly see—
The best of us, the best we’ll be.

Darkness stirs the nectar
Of despotisms fatal cull.
A river bleeds out the
Fatal loss of fears cut.
Burning embers fall and
Gather, as villagers once had.
Near a smoulder, the wick
Of Creation sits in darkness.
The culling hands of Power,
Fear, and Hate, have broke
Again that internal flame.
I quiver at that piercing pain;
A pain that time has carried
Forever on the souls of man.
Darkness stirs on that ever
Broken nectar, who’s rot
Wares on the one mind.
I wish to calm those storms
Within, and light that candle
Wick and send that darkness
Running far off into the eternal.