There's a garden in the desert
Remote and tiny sphere,
Blue and green oasis
Hospitable fine and rare.
...
Morning brings what years may not
Enlightened windows curtains seep
Dreams curtailed deprived sleep
Road noise growling drowns bird chorus
...
Black and white
From light and shade
Swoops parental vengeance,
Just in case.
...
Onlookers chatter in blood spattered dust
The basher and contenders spar and dance
On ruins and solemn graves pounded by both,
They size up and posture for what is right
...
Antique plates on the mantle'
Separate along cracks,
Grind and fail without notice
Like simmering disunity.
...
The fury within,
passion or hate,
eternally rages,
ancient or contemporary,
...
Supplies infuse the wound
Along Turkey's border
Rebels 'n' guns in civilian utilities
Against snipers, jets and tanks
...
Pure, the horizon calls
Pon lands by crystal sea
Past tiny windows ever grey
A cell constructed of fog
...
Nestled in days’ silhouette,
Safe within the spreading jet,
Slipstream waves silver wedge
Crest the tide on evening’s edge
...
Be yourself, that is all you can be.
To be one's self
To be yourself
...