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Competition

My father told me how to lose

And leave things behind

Every Friday he had to win

Every Friday we played badminton

I being smaller was an easy match for him

One time things turned out differently

We went skiing in the mountains

The bitter cold at top and gray sky

Made him challenge me

-First to the bottom wins he said

And off I went

Fearless down the hill

He came far behind

I won not by 100 meter

But maybe 400 meter

He never spoke about it

Again

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Changing Stories

Creating a new narrative

Another story about myself

About the world

Forgetting that

Life moves Within its own dynamic

Very different from what we

Know and want or understand

Being a short lived flower

By the ocean

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On Magic

Magic is a strange thing

Working best in

Your dreams

Reality is another thing

Making the options

More limited

Flying is very hard to do

As well as moving rocks

By the mind

Or using telepathy

(A telephone works

Much better)

However reality remains

The dreams always evaporate

Continuity is the most powerful

Illusion of reality

P

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Sunday Pastime

Travelled to the other side of the moon

To drink some tea

With the old Chinese man

The weather was the same as

One billion years ago

We sat on his porch

Throwing GPS marked stones

A mile or so

(Gravity is a bitch sometimes)

Got into a quarrel on

How to interpret

The journey to the red gorge

A truly intellectual undertaking

Made another summer

Thousand years ago

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Announcement

Tonight I determined

That I am not human

Not authentic

Just a weird sort of

Poetry bot

Producing text for

Readers that might not

Exist

But being Webspiders

Or Bot readers

Then I fell

Into a dreamless sleep pattern

Not awaken until

I became a stock market program trader

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Being Angry

Anger can be a great force

Changing our lives and futures

Or destroying it

Anger has this ambiguity

Making it a tool for

Harm as well as Self-harm

If you try to put out the fire

It will consume you

Let it burn free and it will harm you

And everything around

What a power, what a constraint

What are we going to do?

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On Disasters

Disasters can appear in many ways

The can be big colorful and fragrant or

Small creeping and discrete

Somehow going under the radar

Until they hit you hard in the head

Like now, we don’t notice until

It is too late and the scream of the dying

Wakes us up in the middle of the night

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Wrath

Being angry

Does not solve

Anything

Still it feels

So good,

I love wrath

True righteous anger

Giving such a strength

And motivation

Unfortunately it goes away

Too quickly

Leaving a feeling of burnout

And empty mind

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Dreaming Life

Creativity is a slow process

Trying to get out of the depression

Is like living in a surreal dream

Is this really my life

Are those problem really my problems?

What happened?

Can I take it again?

No it is forever passed