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It's Blank

                   My heart

It's Blank

                   My mind

It's Blank

                       My words

It's Blank

                                         The canvas of my life

Sorry!
No money
No war
No hatred
No more
No color or creed
No taking
No greed
No left and no right
No reason to fight

Just love
Was thinking that we will never be truly civilized until we embrace love.  The Beatles had it right
( A poem I wrote many months ago when muslims were being killed in Palestine, Syria, Iraq, but it still applies in recent refreshed genocide of Palestinians)

Wars round the corner,      
wars at every bend      
Could it be that all this warring  
  would never ever end?      
     
Mass massacre and genocide      
is what we fear and apprehend     
Selfish apartheid oppressing poor folks      
On suppressing others they depend!      
     
Why can't folks borrow love      
and peace too learn to lend?      
For peace-loving persons      wars are hard to comprehend      
     
But in which blessed century      
will the world its ways amend?    
Why not be all sincere      
when peace they recommend?      
   Its hard to not avenge the dead      
So to revenge and defend      
some will feel the need to offend   
 Yet the oppressed dying more is the trend    
   
Why can't we all as Adam's progeny      
simply unite and blend?      
The world's tearing apart,     which saviour's gonna mend?    
 
When the scissors of tyranny      
all peace efforts ruthlessly rend!    

 When will all the saviours      from heavenly heaven descend?      
So we watch and hear all war cries      
unto thin air ascend!      
When peace be the only choice,      
the only probable trend!      
     
Ah, instead of fending off war drums      
why peace plans off we fend?      
Why peace is so complicated      
with double standards at every bend?      
     
Will all state treasuries on aggression alone      
their budgets, finances spend?     
Why can't every foe we know      
turn into a caring friend?        
So we're stalked by friendship    
 and ambushed by love godsend!    
 A world where warlords      and  war heroes become zeroes   
 who in the first place did offend.

  With peace may no nation      
merely play and pretend!      
Hypocrisy is calling freedom fighters terrorists      while their State bombing and shelling  never end.
the tears I shed
drenched a cold spring ground
flooding the creek
that will
in time
feed waves
and take them
to you shores

salty and wild
and hard to mount
even by master surfers

the tears unshed
have built a lump of stone
lodged heavily
right in the middle of my chest

I breathe
it hurts
and makes me cry again
but will not roll away

the hill of Sisyphus rebuilt
close to my heart
The traveler's wife?
I get it! You showed
that movie in the
magazine pages
long before the movie
came out

Pt, I finally did
watch it each time it rains
and when the sun shines
i search for you still;
shoes shirt and pants on hand
 place them behind the bushes
in search of you and amidst
pine tree branches too
thinking of you dearest
darling
How i love you.

Not a day goes by
I do not seek you.
Please don't go hunting
but if you do I shall run
to hug you beg you to stay
traveler dearest
twin soul divine.
I love you. 
~~~~
By: Karijinbba
And Mrs and Mrs Andrews.
https://youtu.be/gI1uyu8KtyE?si=KCTrPx2WudtII4Ut
Next to an old brown tree
Under a new pink sky
I found a younger version of me
The one who used to fly

Next to new concrete
Under an old pocked moon
I found an older version of me
The one who'll falter soon

Next to you right now
Under a peach fuzz sun
I found peace somehow
And for a moment didn't run
Winter is again upon me,
I stand at the window
and stare through scenes
of frost and falling snow.

An ache ascends through,
knotting from a dark core,
rising up like a free spirit
congealing lumpen in my throat.

I feel the chill creeping,
rub my arms and shudder,
the fire is burning so low,
and my eyes see dying embers.

The desire to stoke is dulled,
by apathy frozen in time,
my eyes turn to stare
through frost and falling snow.
To some Holy Land, now, gather ye,
There, to spend the night in Gethsemane.
Entreat with the father or maybe the son,
Perhaps they can tell you when a war is won.

For another parent, another child,
Their once ancestral home defiled.
Did it help, the blood you spilled?
Your mark of Cain; your curse fulfilled?

Run to your God and pretend he hears,
Believe in lies and dark new fears,
Deny to others their right to live…
We saw what you did and will not forgive.

Where two or more are gathered,
The result is anyone’s game.
But make it many thousands,
And often it is just a shame,
How Gods remain suspiciously quiet,
When the killing is in their name.
I don’t want this to come across as an indictment of religion.  I learned useful lessons in childhood, attending with my family. This piece is to do with those persons who would pervert a faith for their own gain of power or wealth at the expense of their fellow man.  All while hiding behind the pretense of their fairy tales.

Early on, I began to adopt a certain personal axiom when dealing with the faithful.  The moment they claim to know the word or the will of God, do not trust them.  Anyone doing so is a manipulator at worst and deluded at best.
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