Viewpoints

fickle are the points of view from
which there are no returns...
censored by the priests of hate
and predetermined attitudes...
crimson are the colors
blue is their passion
green is their love of life...
there is no discrimination,
except for the fishtails cut off
and discarded in sewers of time,
living long and thorough,
there are no clocks, seasons or
passages leading us astray...
we are the victims of our own
hubris - compassion hangs on the
line with other wet garments, 
never to be worn again until we
surrender all our thoughts...
all our fantasies and dreams...
all our miscalculations,
withdrawing all pleas of innocence.

March 11, 2025