only meet on peaceful ground

a sextet of forest illustrations

evening of laments,
past projected remnants,
mindfulness might be good,
maybe some food.

scrolling window blinds,
growling stomach finds,
mindfulness might be good,
probably need food.

they might like me,
have I got the key?
mindfulness is good,
just don’t forget the food.

© Copyright 2023, IsatTM

dare to dream

a hideous grinning putrid flesh coloured balloon sits on a perpendicular stick, displaced characters wander aimlessly around it

those that scream,

die in gutters,

ate by nutters.

draw their eulogy

with crude marks,

colour blank barks,

ignoring the brutality,

ignorance of morality.

“ a place high up..”

“..a puppet was stuck..”

“..their name only known..”

“..the only banal grown..”

{..give your gift to someone else..}

{..your world is disconnected from deaths..}

{..where’s mother nature?.}

{..scientific creator?.}

{..we haven’t gone and done it again!?}

dare with dreams?

I hear the screams,

the fear that creeps here,

a nation’s own health.

the poor will be gone,

and with them our tradition

of compassion and wisdom.

being rich is a curse,

burning in the worst,

all wealth an illusion,

the inevitable conclusion,

power’s snatch

flashed at the back,

and away to crave more,

a haunting gore.

question please,

consuming greed,

uncontrolled desire,

animal fighter,

all alone,

completely retired.

© Copyright 2023, IsatTM

future light

an ethereal person emerging from a gelatinous state

evolution towards the bright,

translucent night,

descendant’s right.

if given the choice

between eugenic’s voice

and kindness given,

I choose the latter,

the god-like position.

in cruelty is born

the demons we scorn,

the dark history we’d share

with those down there.

the shame of neglect

of the empathic connect

that favours the progress

that brings angels success.

belief makes little difference,

the causality is definite.

those that live by virtue

may be revered by the few,

but those that live by the faults

will be hated by all.

nightmares in hell,

feelings forever can tell,

the killers, the thieves,

the rapists and their deeds,

will bring their own brands,

the toxicity of their plans,

poisoning minds

and the hatred just climbs.

the peaceful seek rest,

in their actions they test.

did I travel light,

did I stop my plight?

or did I give in,

let my desires win?

© Copyright 2022, IsatTM

in the half-light

in the dark,

did freedom speak

of glistening peaks?

the chanted whispers,

the autumn’s fissures

threaten summer’s fixtures.

held warmth fading,

mind drift forgetting

of people passing.

“..what’s your name..”

the grandmother listens,

“..friend, nan..”, heart softens.

“..they’re there..”

lost in fairlight,

ever been half-light.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

there’s always three

the object,

the observer,

and the inbetween.

the middle bit,

the space magic,

the stars that can’t be seen.

james web is fascinating,

the furthest we’ve seen,

but there’s so much more,

beyond our eyes cry,

the endlessness of why.

how did it happen?

how was it created?

why did they do it?

what’s their intended?

“..the creator cannot be questioned..”

why would they be bothered?

“ an ant asking why the human stepped on their sister..”

ignorance of the truth,

ignorance of the wisdom,

ignorance of the knowing,

ignorance of never forgetting.

never forgetting the desire,

for more stuff for the pyre,

the results of all endeavours,

in this endless cycle of samsara.

cycles in cycles,

suffering with no end,

round in circles,

always repeating the same mistakes,

without rest.

seek the teachers,

seek the carers,

“ the meek..”

if you like.

search for kindness,

search for compassion,

seek the humble,

“ the passion?.”

the passion for the truth,

“..can’t handle the truth!.”

maybe play the fool?

I can do this,

I learnt it at school.

indoctrination by society,

to be gentle and kind,

“..not all dirty and slimed..”

converse with the idiot,

maybe not miscreants?

be kind, be compassionate.

learn this wisdom,

make it habit,

make it tradition.

a great people are born

of kind deeds

they have sown.

be great,

be proud,

be dignified

in the crowd.

“..forced to patriot..”

“..swear allegiance to an idiot!.”

“..the failed rich boy..”

“..asking for reassurance?.”

let’s steer clear of the rich,

they’re madder all year.

but if the rich happen to glitch,

maybe actually trickledown,

their economics itch.

maybe we’ll want statues?

great people who helped everyone,

no selfish rules breaking down

into bedlam.

great people who shared all,

no matter how small.

great people who feared none,

“..they know what they’ve done..”

been better than themselves,

the greatest humbler of them all,

to know that their future

won’t thank a miscall.

change it,

it’s our mind,

and to sound like a cliché,

always be kind.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString