Grand edict of Eros,
bestowed upon a meadow
that turns into a bog
in the monsoon.

Trapping and collapsing
even the most well-armoured heart—
Heart that walks in a circle,
following the breadcrumbs that lay
on the bloodied earth,
next to the bodies and arrows.
Crumbs that lead to one
meeting themselves.

Bodies, disposable;
souls, crafted into sapience by the flesh,
clipped coins and the pittance of a care
for the wounded heart.

Only steel pierces the heart, truly—
even fish in the corals have more depth.

I can understand that one is knowledgeable,
While understanding that this is not correlative or indicative of intelligence.
Likewise, I can understand one is both, or can be both,
And respect that in specific.
Yet; I can likewise understand,
That while the aforementioned individual(s)
Merits respect in that or those specific aspect(s) and/or attribute(s),
That that individual lacks patience & compassion.
And so that individual is ultimately unworthy/undeserving
Of any greater respect than in understanding them.

Otherwise, I hamper myself & only hinder others
In both intelligence & understanding.

Conversely, I can appreciate that one may understand what they're talking about
Even if I don't fully understand the experience as described.
Whether this is an aspect of one's own ignorance, as in a lack of understanding or confusion,
Or to/by the nature of how/what information is conveyed.
I can appreciate that communication can sometimes be difficult.
I can respect that individual still;
But only if they're earnestly, honestly trying & attempting to.
Only if they're honest & forthright in it & even about it.

Otherwise, they hamper only themselves & hinder others
In both knowledge & intelligence.

The difference between a cosmopolitan,
Of which I am,
And a "globalist,"
Of which I am not,
Is in one's compassion & patience -
In one's respect & understanding.

A cosmo is a citizen of the world,
A denizen of the planet.

This is not,
As some may mistakenly think,
Some sovereign citizen nonsense.

This is respect for the law - universal,
Those enshrined & even those not.

This is recognition of another's country & governance -
Of their sovereignty & rights, in like identity.

A "globalist" believes, wrongly, that there should be
Only one "kind" of a world.
A planet under one "supreme doctrine,

Usually "manifesting" in supremacy & inferiority
And the "erasure" of distinction.
That one's "life" is superior

Because of another's "inferior" "lifestyle."
In "globalism," there is no compassion
And neither is there patience.
There is no respect for distinctions in/of life
And no understanding for different lifestyles.

Observe, and share your perspective -
But be respectful.

Judge, and share your verdict -
But be understanding.

In both the formations of them
And in their subsequent deliveries.

Otherwise, expect not to be seen or heard from.

Is it enough to let the eyes skim the page,
To count the words like stars in a cage?
To say “I’ve read” and pass along,
While meaning fades like a forgotten song?
Reading is not just ink and air,
Not just the weight of facts laid bare.
It’s stepping into thought’s quiet hall,
Where questions echo, and meanings call.
Observation may grant you sight,
A glimpse of truth in borrowed light.
But understanding lights the fire,
Turns cold recall to soul’s desire.
In schools we learn to fill the test,
To chase the grade, outscore the rest
But who will teach the heart to see
What all these numbers mean to me?
To read is more than moving eyes,
It’s letting words inside arise.
It’s asking “Why?” and “What comes next?”
It’s living with the living text.
So read, yes
but read to feel.
Read to shatter, bend, and heal.
For the deepest truths are not just scanned.
They’re held, they’re lived,
they’re understood,
they’re planned.
Enjoy the delight.

yesterday
i took part in
a latvian wedding
even though
i had no idea
what i was doing;
we formed a circle
with burning torches
and sang and chanted
and screamed
performing rituals
that the fathers
of their fathers
once performed

i was told that
the male guests
had given the groom
the strength of a bear
while the bride
was given wisdom
and encouragement
for the years to come
the bride and groom
were then bound
with symbolic chord
blessings and song
joining them together
by hand and heart

without being able
to speak the language
i had to guess or
discreetly ask
for explanations
from other guests
to understand
the significance
of each part;
watching the bride
and groom however
it was clear immediately
their love needed
no translation

Tired yes, of the struggle
I've been struck and roughed,
I've naught left to fight for
I've naught left to live for.
But if you're meant to be the one
I'll fight? No
For tiredness has succumbed me,
Pain has befallen me.

Is this worth the pain?
The sadness and weariness?
I say neither yay nor nay
No, I'll save that answer,
Yes, for when it matters, truly matters.
No more I beg of thee,
My wounds are open, they're oozing
I'm wailing.

Oh, behold! And there she goes
A light on her eyes, shimmering
Of joy and gladness? Yes, perhaps
Such gladness I'll find not
Nor today nor tomorrow, no, not me
It is beyond my reach, not for her
No, she's the past, a cloudy past
Cloudy yet vivid and forgetful past.

Such love I've not felt since...
Yes, since my mum's,
Never since, never again
Of such fate I'm aware, painfully aware.
I'll be alone from now on, not from spite but choice.
For he who lives alone, is bound to love alone,
And that I now need
For wounded I've been.

deprivation on a fathomless level.
a hunger deep within me, unseen and untold,
i yearn to be sought after, cradled, cherished.

embraced like the soft delicate petals of a flower.

my core; soft, and tender, like the warmth of dusk.
craving a touch that nurtures and sustains.
yet my exterior, rugged, and untamed.

a tempest forged in fire, burning with desire.

i am not the monster i paint myself to be,
nor the cold, unfeeling creature i pretend to wear.
i hide behind a scowl, thick as armor,
but behind it, my heart trembles, raw and bare.

i long for a connection, to feel a hand,
not just to be touched, but to be truly seen.

the  fire within me is not to destroy,
but to illuminate the path to love and understanding.

why, then, do i push away the warmth i need?
why do i wear this mask, unyielding and cruel?

i wish to be loved, to be held in the light
but i flicker alone, too dim for their sight.

What is there to know but what is unknown
To feel it so near yet never grasp it
Ponder at what lays ever beyond
The horizons of all understanding

To be at peace in grasping
All knowledge will never be attained
Yet we will search it out nonetheless
And our species will spend all its eons
Be they long or short

That our wonder may never cease