Poetry is the most personal form of literature. We each have our own experience base and world view. What the words mean to me can’t possibly be the same for you. This is not a problem; this is what makes poetry what it is. I know my poetry doesn’t follow established literary rules, but my poetry, my rules.

16 peninsular arse framed cows peripheral

Our planet is framed by a structure encompassing all living things

Nothing is peripheral to our existence, we are what sings

There is no room for the peninsular, we are continuous

Be not an arse, kindness in not arduous

Just as cows give milk, life is what kindness brings

The spectrum of life is the whole of us

17 tend sharp seam transform swing

Darkness collapses to transform the heart empty

The cold strengthens and makes me feel eerie

The seam between the emptiness and the abyss is dread

The sharp call of the raven makes me shake in my bed

Memories of that day tend to haunt that I fled

The dawn has come, I hear the chimes swing in the wind

I grab my clothes and proceed to conquer, I am disciplined

18 dizziness tick octagon rattle culture

The dizziness of a tumultuous world crushed upon me

The foreboding tick of the clock told me I wasn’t free

The rattle of the chains haunts the memory of that day

The culture of unforgiveness casts a shadow over those who would be free

Like the octagon sign stops traffic on the way, a little kindness makes it go away

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