This age of knowledge
in Earth’s twilight lacks wisdom.
This age of knowledge taken soullessly
void of responsibility lacks wisdom.
Like harlots, knowledge lie wasted
on vanity, objects, ego, power: bodies
lie bare to be had.
Knowledge devoid of wisdom compassed
by moral consciousness is an invisible bomb
in itchy hands -to Mother Earth.
One spark of hate can light a nation
One spark of hope can light a heart
that ripples to the next generation.
One negative word can cripple a dream
One look of affirmation can light a great
thought to the next invention.
One unjust deed can spark a revolution
One act of love can make a path clearer
redeeming a desperate soul.
So light your spark, set each heart on fire
in a unified world where positive vibration
is the fuel and currency.
The Future is Now
while it’s going down. A generation,
while it’s going
He did it!
That’s what I said!
That’s what you said!Constant bee hived
A whining culture of passing the blame or talking back, mimicking society. When will this chorus end?
Son, show some integrity!
Who really did it? ‘I did it.’ (a smile)
‘How difficult was that?’
Now make it right without that smile.’
‘There you go, show integrity!’
can be golden
when words have no punch,
so weigh each word before
each breath escapes silence.
one lit with dazzling gold;
the traffic is really swift
the other plain and narrow
with snail-paced grit.
Choose your path in wisdom
less you be outwitted
and the glory turns to dust.
it is not what it seems
please believe me.Flip
it’s turned upside down
it’s not what it seems
then up from below
It’s turned inside out
upside down, believe me.It is not half full
it is not half empty,
this crystal is lead
please believe me.it is not brown
It is not the ground
It is not the sky
It is scarlet dew,
Wash your groggy eyes
clear your weary minds
then look twice with the soul.
it is not what it seems
now believe me.
de-booking from fake grid
on smart digital orb
of mediated digitized selves.
Hopping off to a fulsome
reality with self in an
anti-hypnotic web where dreams
and thoughts not made and fed.
Taking back knowledge
Wretched age must grind
but yield to a sudden halt.
No more life to unfold
till dust re-scatters
to breathe new souls,
then new cycles begin.
Oh life, restore
not knowing its perfection.
Softly it fades into simplicity
untainted by life’s humbugs to
reveal an endgame to continuity
The victim may wallow for a moment
but must never stay down,
for that demon keeps company
with darkness and misery
and will hijack life as its trophy
in its game of ‘tricks and master.’
The destroyer’s game of Russian roulette.
Movement is life so brush off
and run on to hope and victory.
It is but another step into oblivion
reaching the zenith of life
where worlds collide
into question marks of red, grey
Reaching the zenith
is but a futile quest
to bridle time and space
in a kaleidoscope of new requests
of ifs and buts of an unreachable
place in time.
the hands are few for the reaping.
The droughts of the harvest lie wasting
But now the vines are ripe, ready for the
to chilling heart
on this infinite
Wisdom and knowledge
on collision course,
yet, on separate path may stray;
one bearing loaded words
the other bearing silence
till both meet at a cross road
When you think you know all,
leave some room for doubt
because twisted reality can
pose as factual and proven
beyond doubts and reason.
Each one must find his or her
resolute abstraction then take
time to understand the illusion
of unchallenged reason in a
world saturated with ever
changing knowledge and guise.
where today’s facts will tomorrow
die to rise as new knowledge
in a similar place but another time.
at the base
where the root
springs into shoots
until truth becomes
disguised and elusive
to the point where
all truths start and end
in blindfolded lies.
The angel beckoned to the one
whose grace had overcome and won.
The widow’s faith all mattered then
She’d run life’s race right to the end.
that lies within ourselves.
I look out at the horizon of time
and see hope beckoning to mankind.
Each ebb, each flow balancing strokes
as lifeboats sturdy against the tide
flow towards the lighthouse
beaming brightly in yonder sky
bidding each passenger
not to slide, quit or jump ship
with Hope in sight.