The Elements

You are me, cut out of the same cloth a different chip, of the same block just dipped in wine, of a different sort soaked and steeped, in a different sauce poured out of same, elements raw in a different mould, just in a different form But you are me cut out of the same cloth If in your house, had I been born won’t I like the same food, that you yearn won’t I laugh and cry, with your parents such won’t I love your loved ones, just as much won’t I frolic around, with your siblings    all won’t I hurt the same as you, if I had a slip and fall You are me, cut out of the same cloth a different chip, of the same block The difference lies, not in who we are but what we believe, and what’s been taught  A set of different lies, we have both been told about where we come from, and where we go they got hold of us, when we were really small so we couldn’t use our, discretion at all then our brains were pumped, with figments of lies that slowly took hold, that slowly we imbibed lies ...

The courage to pick up and carry one’s dream is the heaviest lift a person can ever engage in. All our lives we skirt the issue, beating about the bush, living shallow, easy lives. In the deep recesses of our minds we get glimpses of what we want. What we really really want. Sometimes is it not formed with great clarity. Sometimes it is hazy. Sometimes it is just incomplete.  But every once in a while we do come across it with vividness and clarity, as it lays bare all its dimensions and its full consequence.  It is in these brief moments that we come face to face with the most momentous decisions of our lives. Where we have to pick it up or let it just sit there, perhaps to be visited again, perhaps not. Each time we come back its colors have faded a little bit more in direct proportion to our missing courage. We may get a few such chances in all our life, if we are lucky.  This perhaps is the most fundamental differenece between personal fulfillment and not.  Here ...

 It’s the first flower of the spring, mild and shy But what lies within, that its bosom hides It is fire I think, or a hurricane may be For the petals and tense and burning bright As the wind caresses it and passes by It gently nods and gives a blushing smile The wind has whispered in its ear may be That you are the loveliest wonder around my child As the shadows shorten and the sun goes down There come gusts of wind that can’t resist the sight They flirt with the petals and harass the stem By they are wanton by nature so they just go by But the flower is brave,  doesn’t lose its smile It knows how to take it all in stride For what is precious to it is what lies within Where it will permit only that which is wonderful and nice And the wait isn’t too long for what comes passing by Is a grand and gorgeous butterfly Its greets the flower and gets greeted in return And gets the permission to reach the fire within What happened next well everyone could see The butterfly and the flo...

As the new moon rays touch the velvet waves And the wind from south plays the music loud As the starlit night watches mesmerized I hear the sound of sea, I see the Tango break In outstretched hands of golden rays As the moon gently holds the restless waves There is thunderous applause from the clouds above And the first steps of lovers dance they take In rythm profound I see them carry on Lost blissfully in the windy song That reminds me of a distant day When you were the monnlight and me the restless wave Then the wind picks up and the music soars The watery harp of wind so roars The waves leap high into the sky above Inspired by music and the moonlight touch I lie on deck seeing them Tango on The mind drifts back to the time by gone To the time spent in the Tango bar When excitement brimmed up in our hearts

The color of love It’s red sometime but briefly so like embers glow burning bright with the winds that blow it’ red sometime but briefly so it’s blue a lot with pining hearts broken dreams unrequited asks an open casket of unmet wants it’s blue a lot the color of love and then sometimes its an indigo haze a violet dream between night and day we know not for sure what is true sometime red, sometime blue a misty cloud that we amble through it takes on hues of jealous green when there are  lovers more than two it twists and turns it singes and burns it gets messy and nasty  when there are more than two love takes on hues of  jealous green too And when it’s not steeped enough you see it turns out rather yellow and weak neither alive nor dead it just pretends to be love  while it isn’t, in reality And so in myriad ways  love plays casting rainbow across our life’s landscape touching us in its colorful ways

It wasn’t the gun, that pulled the trigger that laid to rest those poor souls it was the person behind who lost his mind its mental disease we need to fix the most Its not the first, its not the fifth its not the hundreth time it happened so but its not the guns, its not the guns every time we hear the chorus go we can’t let them rob our guns you see coz with guns we will let our freedoms go how will we save us from government errant if we don’t have our guns in hand From second ammedment our rights do flow and amendments can’t be amended bro so we will arm the teachers, we will arm the kids we will give guns to babies along with bibs you are right to say its a disease that really needs an urgent fix but its not the one that the perp did have its way more onerous and way more sad its not one of body or of mind  fixing those can be done in time its a disease of a more nefarious kind this one here is of the soul We can’t see the facts in front of us dead bodies of children don’t matt...