The water is close
Yet we drown in sollace
The dissaray of despare piles like the water that piles and heaps behind the dams
Our bodies lie decrepid and dry
Yet we are close
The water drips
And
It dissapears
Into the body that now is just as it was before water
We can see this wealth
A body that would sustain ours
Synergetic and symbiotic
Yet, the water remains distant
Our eyes feast on the drip as it sprints and hides
We can crawl but we cannot really
We are all to weak to brave the journey of dust and dry despair
Drip
And those of us who do
Realize
The water is not real
And we all die
All mortal
All with our pains and greivences
The suffering and eternality
The water was a lie
blue man had one mission but it was a big gun
Wanted to hydrate the planet, each and every one
Every plant, every person, every animal who existed.
We who heard the plan helped him. No one dare resisted.
We put water on everything and drank it as well
H2O from farm ponds, lakes, dams, reservoirs and every well
Blue man got famous and paid experts to hydrate the rest
I was exhausted from watering, so glad, I must confess
“Day dreams lay dead in dreams, but when life is breathed into them, they soar beyond the boundaries of success.”
— Poet
My dream is to be great in life,
That all I touch shall turn to gold,
And melt like butter on hot knife.
Thus my reward shall be tenfold,
Full of thriving, less of strife,
Grow finer, like a wine brewed old~
That buds find its rhythm in fife,
A belief I hold in heart bold.
So surprising it becomes,
When I dreamt this dream in dreams,
And dance to its beats on drums,
Then its true essence truly gleams,
And its true purpose it sums.
Its starkness guided by beams,
As if life's dreams are like ripe plums,
That come as easy as they seem,
Such that to no loss it succumbs.
True dreams are fulfilled in sleeps,
And not drowned in dwams' dams,
Where doubt constantly creeps,
To make dreams appear as shams,
Yet my life-dream still peeps
Through this life's tangled jams,
To a place no one weeps,
And free from dreams' logjams.
Mars, Musk, And Bond Girls
Mars is again in the news, and Musk has been silent
about going to Mars, perhaps he has found
Another planet more suitable to his temperament
We read that four women are going to Mars, mainly
because they have been astronauts and know
a thing or two about the limitless space if one gets
to far out can disappear into a time that does not
exist and are doomed to fly while drinking tea from
a straw, worrying about whether sugar is fattening.
It might be possible to unclog the dust in hidden
river beds on Mars, it might be that the dust is dry water
that, if we have a magic formula, will spring to life
sing like a waterfall in April, create sweet dams
and a landscape unspoiled by the ugly windmills
Should Elon Musk take a renewed interest in
Mars, he has the will to go there, but will he when
As a leader, introduce democracy among the crew
or demand Mars as an authoritarian regime
Brackish lichen forms a raft upon the pond,
a low haze floats like a moored airship.
Small frogs chirrup sotto-voce
as if they were
dreaming sparrows.
Water birds dabble in their sleep.
Soon the sun
will dash across a drop of dew
bursting dams of light.
A fisherman in his truck
drinks his coffee,
rubs his eyes and smacks his lips.
He grabs rod and tackle,
hopes fat fish are lazily
rising.
Feathers shake off waterlogged shadows,
wings slap the groggy face of the pond,
ripples splash up
to rinse the air.
Coots and Plover call
until the water
awakes.
When the rains come down
And the dark clouds fill the sky
The old men go walkabout
When the rains come down
And the earth no longer dry
The old women praise the Lord
When the rains come down
And dams are overflowing
The young men learn the secrets
When the rains come down
And fertile fields start growing
The young women long for love
Cosmic dust carpets the night sky
Like glittering snow blanketing billowing pine trees,
Captivating our deepest thoughts.
Inner monologues break their dams,
Flooding our consciousness with fleeting questions—
Of what was and what still might be.
Existential queries fly by like shooting stars:
Why here? Why this planet, this plane of existence?
Only to disappear in a flash, leaving no trace.
For we are so small within the emptiness of galaxies,
Yet we hold onto hope that there is more beyond what can be seen.
For even the death of a star breeds life—
From scattered ruins comes the calcium that builds our bones.
Within the silence of night, we come ever closer to tranquility.
Let the glow of moonbeams wash over you.
As each star has a pattern of its own, so do you.
Wipe your tears, sweet child,
Whilst the balmy breeze wraps around you.
Let your past evaporate like a summer rain
I flew the international route
Had an epiphany, no doubt
Surrounded, the mix of folks
Of ages, languages, life walks
What if we suddenly can share
One intellection, maybe pair?
A story from a distant nook
Earth’s wisdom, ready for a book
Of money, family and love
Tradition, habit thereof,
How we can learn, and why we don’t?
Out of indifference, we wouldn’t
This plane, a sample of mankind
Hey, guys and girls, come read my mind
I long to share, trick or two
You get to wear my old shoe
But no, they slept, restrained and fed
No brainstorms or plans instead
No passing secrets, gained advice
Within our reach, free and precise
No business chat, no meeting place
Or knowledge gained in plane’s space
Polite and friendly, shut as clams
No handshakes offered, only dams
We ate, we read, had movies watched
This opportunity was botched
And as we land - “goodbye, primates”
We split and run, to transfer gates
March 22, 2025
MAY OUR WATER FOREVER BREAK AND FLOW
As like the water, we were created;
In the breaking of the water we came—
And it is said that we did not come here
To be sitting or standing around for nothing:-
Indeed, we are here like the waters of rivers;
Like waters of oceans and seas—flowing to be;
And like the waters, we must ever be about flowing—
Flowing to ever be free from oppressive inequities:-
Strong flowing waters can burst damming dams,
And frozen ice melts in warm flowing liberating water;
And although slow deep streaming water evaporates,
Does it not eventually fall back down on oppressive ground?
Let us forever run and flow in physical strength;
Let us forever run and flow in mental awareness;
Let us forever run and flow in spiritual uplifting;
Let us forever run and flow in undying faith:-
God has baptized us in the water of His divine love,
Graciously dipping our heads in His divine wisdom,
Guiding us towards His shores of divine liberation,
That we may forever flow in His gracious deliverance:-
Confined within the steep banks of a narrow mind
is a cryptic river where men stumble in and go blind
They construct reinforced dams that hold them back
from accepting the candid truth, white is not black
Like the slow-moving current of a trickling stream
their thoughts are clogged and clot like curdled cream
What chance do the recalcitrant ones have to accept
reality if they allow no vision of being circumspect
of taking fault and blame for having a closed mind?
These are the ignorant, the foolish ones aptly defined
as those destined to stagnate until they decompose
It's the subsequent end to the stubborn who oppose
a new premise or concept with which they don't agree
They rot inside prisons of conceit, a human tragedy
Dear God in Jesus name will you on Los Angeles
Pour down the rain? Please give respite its in your
Power, despite evil plans.' Give some rain; let heavy
Clouds lower.' A fresh renewing curtain of love if
In your will? as with good news by the dove, fill the
Dams and flood rain down; show mercy Lord of all
Renown.' In the name of Jesus may relief come
Down.' Amen.'
Beneath the noise of borrowed truths
and the weight of clocks that chime with urgency,
there lies a quiet field—vast, untamed,
where the soul remembers its original name.
No walls, no maps, no mirrors to hold us;
only the steady rhythm of breath,
the pulse of being untouched by thought.
Here, the sky is not a question
but a boundless answer,
its blue stretching into forever,
inviting us to dissolve.
The rivers do not seek their course;
they flow, as we do,
when freed from the dams of desire.
Conditioned beliefs fall away like autumn leaves,
leaving the stark beauty of the bare branch—
vibrant, unburdened, alive.
The Self glows, not as a beacon,
but as light that needs no witness.
There is no agenda here,
no shelf to hold the books of becoming.
Life flows on—effortless, infinite—
as we step into the stream,
not as swimmers, but as water itself.
My hilly paths are full of pits, and my trails turn and twist.
My life and destiny have contracted clandestine tryst.
As there are dams blocking rivers that flow flawlessly
Unknown hurdles put pauses to life rather lawlessly.
Brick by brick how cautiously I construct my dream castle!
How a storm pulls it down as though it's a hut on the hill!
Exploring, inventing, and enlightening, I move on.
Towards absurd spells of death, my mortal being is drawn
Inner aches, like yokes, weigh me when I let go of my worries.
Pains and grieves, like traumas, bring in tumultuous flurries.
Soul passes through deserts of spiritual emptiness.
Pilgrimages of perfection become pride-filled pettiness.
With my descents and falls, I, a weakling, come to my Lord
He lifts me from dust and takes me to his heavenly abode.
As a vulture that gains its youthfulness, I take new birth.
Dark nights of my soul end and bright days lead to endless mirth.
The rapids slow churning, struggling
Cling to the sharp-edged stones
Dart through cracks and crevices
To no avail
For water has no conscience
Winter ice may give it hope
Clinging to frosted stones
Seal its tormentor beneath
The grimace of an icy blanket
Mute the moan of its raging fury
Spring’s whispers taunt its deep silence
Dance upon its awakening ice flow
Entice still shivering buds to bloom
Trout await the first fly hatch
Anglers await the trout
Wide rivers ease the water’s rage
Old earthen dams again hold fast
Divert its ire to brook and stream
Long fingers reaching to the sea
To meet on tides its destiny
Dams
I’ve worked to build dams,
Gravity and stability
From heel and toe to crest,
From bedrock to top;
From abutment to abutment,
The obstacle looms:
Earth dams and concrete dams,
And dams I built with feet and hands
To flood the landscape
And prevent the water from flowing
Its natural course.
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