delivered me back in the dark shadows
and the underbelly of the web,
where impossible mission
to differentiate the outer limits
cast by edge of night
essentially rendering a twilight zone
where obscured criminal activity
clear as day in retrospect,
versus earlier this month
when yours truly gung ho
obediently got a crash course
in cryptocurrency and electronic
of human bondage
blindsided to the Potemkin Village,
who never heeded the red flags
now forced me to revisit
nightmare scenario of pennilessness,
whereby an absentee vote

I went there for nothing really.
A slow Sunday,
some food,
and the kind of conversations that leave no trace.

No Place for Freya

Nature is in crisis because of us, but we do not seem to care…there is no room for Freya in Norwegian waters.

–Eurogroup for Animals

He taught me how to wield
the weapon made of words—
a blade that kills,
now saving lives,
like it once saved mine.

My own work
pulled me back from the edge.
And in it,
he lives—
my teacher,
the man behind the lines.

Words—
once carved deep in the mind—
outlive the flesh,
outlast the hands
that once shaped them.

His words stopped me
from falling
to the hundred voices
that came to kill.
They caught my train
just in time
as I stood on tracks
with no will to run.

He never held me,
never came near.

God I can't wait to go to
Heaven
Any day you call me to go to
Heaven
I Will be ready to go heaven
I know that you will send
Your Angel down from heaven
To get me
And he will carry me
In his wing
Also when we will reach heaven
The Angel will knock on heaven's
Door
And God will open the door
For us to get in
And in heaven, I will sleep in
My brass bed
Every night

Oh that Delphic twist scrambled offset,
outside fringed flares pen vogue,
dark is a diamond netherworld plume,
as the singed sunset slumps,
mega molten partitions skip
when token,
of nestled nests Russian doll style,
capsized in vacuous emblem tarnished regally,
toppled and tailed by uniform upright,
circumstances pilloried sparsely while I archly asses,
dive enthusiastically then delve when edgy impulse,
fires dormant limb reined in ruinous by late phase,
winter skin adsorbing without awareness instinctual,

Give it to me
Father some health
Because I just don't
Have any more good health
Also Father
I am a little old now
And I also suffer
From depression
For a long time now
Also Father
It is hard for me to live
With depression my
Father
I must tell you
That also I take some narcotics
For my depression
Every single day
Night and morning
I never skip a dose of
Narcotics
Give it to me
A good night's sleep
Every single night
AIso Father I never wake up
During the middle of the
Night
I sleep all the way through

A lily -white age once
blossomed and bloomed
in rose garden beds
but time’s toxic hand
sunk a withered root

I owe It all to you
My Father
I am happy that
You created me
With you holy hands
Many years ago
And placed me here
On earth to live
With my siblings
Also your young children
Are now youth
They already lived their teenager
Lives many years ago
Siblings I am your older
Brother
I am going to die
Before you
And I know that you are
Going to miss me
Because I will be in heaven
Living my new life
And I also will be resting
In Peace

please oh lord brace and fix me with monetary salvation

After umpteen times being swindled
reducing me to abject poverty
psyche of mine
broke into a bajillion little pieces
much like Humpty Dumpty
grim outlook spells
forlorn and foregone conclusion,
thus I beseech
all knowing omniscient creator
to rescue me
from the pitfalls of eternal damnation,
where pendulum wildly swings
in one direction of doom
sabotaging sanity and solvency
wreaking havoc analogous
to kamikaze missionaries
intent on suicide missions