The forest doesn’t need WiFi Doesn’t need a clear signal and broadband connection It speaks via chemicals Data transmitted via fungal colonies An underground information superhighway Mycelium networks under fallen leaves, Allocating nutrients to every tree An intricate symphony, Interconnected mycelial filagree Every blade of…

nature here is nothing like the mountains fresh with dew in the morning air conditioners drop fluid in strange places bags of garbage rustle with the contents of rodentia feasts And the jungle of concrete holds secrets they never tell you

They bunch up to create a scapegoat for nothing some bigger story built by nameless faces and forgotten shells of people who gave everything everything for their people In the end we sit dust upon the ashes and any truth we’d once held we crushed…

Oh! What a beautiful surprise! Up all day and night, writing poems, feeling, processing, pouring, and from behind without a sound, Giraffe covers me, over my head, long out in front of me…. so unexpectedly. “I have been here for fourteen months. Did you not…

The heavens know when you have been found. After wandering in darkness that started within Once you have exhausted yourself from the burdens of life Following the sea of tears and valleys of regret The heavens have been waiting to shine a light The heavens…

Monsoon comes Clouds are no longer lonely As monsoon approaches upon the city walls Trees opening up their branches over Eco parks spawning beside lanes The reconstructed winding wetlands Look majestic and tall before the high raises Peacocks coming out to welcome the rains And…

Alter egos Prufrock got Eliot all wrong or it could have been the other way around pending misbegotten  ideas ideals, more on who, what contradictory or indecisive right from wrong wrong from right is it any wonder neither of them asked   – Mark L….

The last cigarettes are smoked Sleep deprived Hungover and dangerous But in spite of everything I am creating art To be read, probably ignored but I’m writing it at 6:34 in the morning I am creating art

Dear Eve, Mother of all creation. Do you remember the day that you wanted to know it all? You got all that you wanted. We all did. We know everything We understand nothing. jj2019 2019 Poetry Marathon

The city park. It’s the playground, for the apartment kids. It’s the morning walk destination, for the diabetic Dad’s and Moms. It’s the meeting place, for the young lovers. It’s the place to crack old jokes, for the men in their winters. It’s the only…