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Take heart I say
to myself, leaning against
the wall to end sorrow.

Solar year, O red
and green pain, don't invite the
wounds. Don't cry moon, don't.

Standing in the pulpit
I invoked peace to stop the hands
of clock. Time was moving very fast.
When life stops, will
you learn what death is? A living
death solves idolatry one day.

Why do you run for
more? Am I wrong? When I want
to stop you, you were searching pearls

The exile gives a real
meaning to meet the god at the end
of land. A rebel faces the truth.
Can you heal my
insomnia? Raise the bar
and eat your words.

You have stopped
singing. Take me moon I
am getting very hot.

Why people are dying
without blood? Someone
was sending the message?
I can't live with these thoughts
Take them from me permanently
Or ready my pine box

All life's cheap shots
I've never found a remedy
All pleasantry coagulates or clots

Vast planes of sparse spots
Riddle my memory so little to no memory
Only empty, inflammatory subpar plots

My past leaches off my future as it rots
Leaving mostly nothing left for me
Subsequently having less than the have nots

©2024
I passed by a piece of land
It was covered with weeds
Aside the trees, it has nothing else my eyes wanted to see
The same land before now saw different farm tools dress it
Season after season
Year after year
It was dressed and clothed with different crops
Crops in rows and and made of different colours
But this piece of land has lost its beauty today
The tools won't work it again
The rains may come
The sun isn't out of job
But the tools have all gone to bed
Because the farmer has gone home to rest
A rest from all this earthly stress
Vitæ 6d
Awake from a dream
dipped in sun fire,
is a caterpillar still
wrestling in my heart's
asylum—a chrysalis,
summoned by the
wilderness, is prying
itself open.

Where the field laid
bare in a pallor of cold,
is where spring begins
to overflow, like flowers
blooming from the deepest
nether—loving death is
outgrowing this world.

I wear a cloak of patience
over limitless energy,
shedding for dialogue
between potentialities,
inside me spins a thread
of great longing, but
around me, a great hope
is bursting at the seams.

A force spurs a descent
from the cave, from the
crumbling walls I am made.
What remains lifts the
curtains before a
show begins, where
in solitude I undress to
become a house of wings.

The orchard cradles
my smallness in a
concentrated blossom—
lighter than breath,
brighter than vision,
hidden among all there is,
a great wave inside a ripple.
To be delighted is to realise,
the world you fell into is
a vast sky.
The light walks with
me, and shadow guides. The moon
comes and goes in the screams of inferno.

Let us talk about humankind.
It rubs wolves and snakes. Where is the
genuine evolution of man going?

Can I create safe
world by my poetry. The republic love
can take us to Buddha's tree.
My pain chips away at life
With no precision, it isn't nice
White knuckling a standard butter knife
When it's time to go all the way, it won't think twice

©2025
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