2025.09.25

Damn these grocery stores, crated of treats, getting in my head with such sweets,

Just sometimes, I wish sugary fruities would soft talk me before I grabbed at them,

Cause I’m nervous at best, and a good looking fruit shuts-down this mind to a blip.

Oh tender fruit so sweet, say something kindly to me,

Let me hear that crisp and delicious sound you make,

Tell me you’re healthy sugar, not sour or bitter flavour,

Just a tender fruit so sweet, beaming as a vivid treat.

Hmm, should I snag a honeyberry,

Or peel open a bunch of bananas,

Or maybe prune a firm purple plum,

Or bite full into a soft fuzzy peach?

Please, check-out line, don’t hold me back this time,

Cause I’ve got this backpack full of a savory dinner,

And I need a fruit in my satchel as choicest desert.

Come home with me my fresh treat,

My sweet fruit, always waiting for me,

Our paradise, this shelven aisle grocer,

Don’t let me blip by without you in sack,

To shine skin glossy as an evening snack.

2025.09.23

Ya, I got two sides of my mouth I can speak out of,

But only one tongue and throat to shape the sound.

Yet, amusingly, the air billows hot from my two lungs.

2025.09.21

Morality and faith are the rock of everyday people,

Ethics and truth are billowing winds in the system.

Sometimes, you must make a truce, and loose face,

To try and rebuild the rock of crumbling faith at home,

And offer something more ethical than what you were.

Only in arrogance do we beat continuous war,

Thinking we can blow our ways across a world,

Not accepting we always live between breaths,

Either exhaling wind, or inhaling deeply within.

So look around you warring politician fools,

People are choking, needing some fresh air,

Your exhaling only austerity, war and death,

With nothing to inhale and let people refresh.

And if there’s no air to fill the peoples lungs,

They will only suffocate madly on emptiness. 

The people are starving and churning riotous,

You’ve abandoned them into hopeless debts,

Your agents abuse them to quota the prisons,

You’ve allowed corruption enforce unjust law,

You see their health as unworthy of investment,

Your countries are idealized decomposing ruins,

Administering monetary abstraction not growth,

Twisting poor countries to servitude and civil war,

Your machines are eating alive this living planet,

You’ve lost narrative of basic humane goodness,

Being overtaken by violent fanatics and zealots,

Looted by greediest corporate wealth hoarders,

Manipulated by secretive tech exec networks,

Your treaties imposed by supremacist overlords,

Controlling to march death into an endless war!

Low, deep breath, to high output,

Intake now, to fresh breeze later.

All you have in the end, my silly squandering politician friend,

Is the will of everyday people, so loose them at your own peril.

Inhale, restore people’s humane faith,

Then exhale a breeze around the world.

You can’t focus on everything at once,

Stubbornly fighting these endless wars,

Deteriorating living conditions at home,

Warring all fronts, caring not for peace.

We all must breath the rhythm,

So force peace, not endless war,

And rediscover your faith at home,

Offering deals of humane dignity,

So that when you’re faced again,

The people willing stand with you.

For another war is nearing, can you feel it upon the air?

And it will be more gruesome than this greedy moment,

But man against man, armed by death, it will not wholly be,

Nor even the dominion of superpower against superpower,

For all will wrestle our very notion of cyclic and stable nature.

History does not repeat, but it does roll up its stories,

And these wars are a recreation of our past memory,

Delusions of what we were, splattered across a world,

But what brings the future, will be a new experience.

For what will we do when air streams truly choke us,

What will we do when heat waves melt entire crowds,

What will we do when metros drown ravaged in flood,

What will we do when hurricanes never stop swirling,

What will we do when fires burn down all our forests,

What will we do when battered by famine and deserts,

What will we do when weather patterns never stabilize,

What will we do when pollution blooms into dead seas,

What will we do when ocean currents freeze continents,

What will we do when microbes whither and dry in soil,

What will we do when ecology sustaining animals extinct,

What will we do when mass dislocations walk all the earth,

What will we do when labour can only rebuild ruined cities,

What will we do when budgets swell beyond mathematics,

What will we do when cruel dictators rise from desperation,

What will we do when chaos turns a world to nuclear ends?

But what countries can hold form, making war like in ages of old,

Stretching unmoving blood lines across nations for tiny territory,

Frivolously spending people into mass poverty’s snap revolutions,

And disregarding perilous nature’s fury that shall eat up our souls?

Inhaling feels a heavy compression, but air does a body need.

Yet, an exhale is so light and breezy, refreshing a mind’s focus.

And so I say, that for this day:

“Breath now deeply in, and meditate on becoming the wind.”