Hour 12 – Gatherings   Its normally takes place on a Saturday usually bright and early, A skirl of the pipe chanter, the hum of the drones, the crisp sound of the drums. If you look around you’ll find a sea of different tartan kilts….

Gathering again mouths muted, no sound but music here to balance the cruel violence the ugly world does bear.   Smiles and hugs replace words, gestures of love and peace replace the earthly hate and war in outsiders’ collective face.   No masks they wear,…

People can perceive a smile from 300 feet away. Your eyes light up, though that I cannot see, and unknowingly, my mouth corners tug at my lips. Faces are made to mimic one another, so even when I have the capability of five thousand other,…

Packing up a life is not an easy thing to do. You have to clean out every drawer; you may learn things you never knew. The finality of knowing that they aren’t coming back can pierce you like a dagger causing a sudden grief attack….

I do not believe in god; then Corona visited home Claimed my most precious gem; my little one with her golden smile I now became that tree, that lived even after lightning struck But no longer bore leaves or fruits; just a souless living dead…

    Hour 12 How strange is this connection, not by blood but met by fate, your friends make it live a heaven Unknowingly, if you meet your mates, No matter how long the period those gathering with loving friends, You Found someone in the…

Write a poem thats what they said now I am laying here half dead longing for food I cannot eat it takes too long and might put me to sleep. Write a poem and then many more it’s  still early I have to stay awake…

The keep fire of desire burning, refuel it day and night and never let it run out of fire. When there is will there will surely be way. Let your passion grow everyday and keep moving with determination When these are kept in place. be…

His name is Freedom but he prefers to be announced as We, Us. He or Him. Please don’t refer to him as them, they or those. He cannot pale any bluer in the face. For centuries no one has told him what to do. His…

It’s the heart of the wet season When the woods are drunk And we cannot navigate The mighty ponds On the paths to our farms. Overgrown weeds hide Hideous reptiles. Cold comes knocking So we unlock the stores To fetch faggots we gathered When the…