Fresh air

fresh air comes clean in through the window

bringing hope and peace

the revival of the day

the space to live

After Larkin

They fuck you up

the rich and rulers

they may not mean to but they do

the give you what you just don't need

and steal the best, that's meant for you

War Reflection

The suffering of the soldiers

in these senseless mad campaigns

is always matched in me

by civilians lost, and mothers' pains

it says a lot about us

that war goes on today

the ultimate absurdity

this game that humans play

no one wants it to continue

but on and on it goes

it's like an endless cancer

just peckings for the crows

and in the end, win or lose

things are worse then than before

and we the people get to work

on what we can restore

and so I think, seeing such strife

what a pointless, wretched, waste of life

A Day is a Poem

This is my poem for the start of the day

to celebrate existence as this, my unique way

the day is an illusion but it works for me

it's night time elsewhere for all the world to see

I look out my window and the fir branches blow

I observe my breathing to feel the universe flow

Celebrate your existence, you are a unique way

and be a new poem at the start of each day

Day of the Dead

Every day

is day of the dead

the dead inside us

the dead we don't know

the dead we know but don't know are dead

the dead whose music we loved

the dead whose acting we loved

the dead who are yet to die

the dead who are yet to be you and I, dead

A Place I Know

Existence is a place I know

I visit it often

It never disappoints

It always fills my cup

Unlike some other places I know

Unseen

I write of things unseen

but felt

of things never felt

but known

of things never known

but enacted

that's what I write about,

the plain unvarnished invisible truth

that all people experience

but blinker it from their awareness

so they can live in ignorance of reality

Nothing

Let me tell you about nothing

It is rich

it is fresh

it is full of all the matters

Night and Day

What is it of the day you do not like?

Preferring shadows of the dark in dead of night.

I cannot understand your deep addiction

for all those things that fuel your heart's affliction

Where you see grim I see the light of love

where you imagine death I see the pure white dove