Writings

What’s Wrong

The Simple ways of yesterday have swayed and gone under a cloud of evil supplemented in a defence of the good.  Good has thus been foreseen and wielded by axe men whom have cut down massive forests in order to write legislation that is supposed to fuel high taxation, so man is caved again.  Pens are dry as the blood from war ridden ideologies trying to bring the creative light into the unlimited darkness of pardon as words echoing in an endless wishing well.  Spell upon light turn what’s wrong to right, turn triangle to a different angle, complexity into simple circles of priority.  Exist only to exist?  Knowledge douth destroy one’s bliss unto man who douth not givith this.  Speciality and equality makes us ask, what is wrong? The answer lies when we are due to obey our own portrayal.

Underneath Stars and Guardian Angels

Stars are bright even when the light of day does not allow the eye to focus upon thee.

Guardian angels, a fiction of tales

of golden trains with no rails

to guide them to their destination.

With a star

This is far,

from the impossible.

Rain comes unexpected leaving the tea party

devastated and finding yet spices

might have very well sufficed

at an indoor dinner party pouring fine wines and listening to our guardian angels dine

as rain and wind speak at the open mouth of our temple. 

Oh how underneath the stars life can be simple

and how guardian angels can dance in the drizzle. 

Man is so fickle

that even the wrong that is done

is not understood in pun.