Energy can be a beautiful thing, we focus so much on the negative however. What happened to improving ourselves, our passions, our kinks, our tolerance. We focus this amazing energy on others, you must believe my religious views, or we will help your enemies. Or prevent you from marrying the person you love, simply because they share the same genitalia. So much energy goes into hatred, when it should be focused on improving ourselves. Imagine taking the energy from Jerry Springer and using it for one better decision, one less passive aggressive comment. Imagine that positive energy becoming one more explosive orgasm an orgasm of lust, of love, of kindness, of helping a stranger. Imagine that gift of positive energy then helping another. We don’t heal the world with bombs. We heal with the positive energy we allow ourselves to partake of. This year, this season, this energy. Love yourself. It will change the world.

Foster kindness in your heart, some seeds may fall, but some will have a good start.

Foster love, for others in your life, a smile or a hug, can reduce a little strife.

The winds, the skies, our earthen soil, they foster us by training us, times to play, times to toil.

Often wrongs are done to us, anger sent our way, seek justice, for justices sake, but foster forgiveness, you’ll have a brighter day.

Portland night, glistening under the clouds, beauty reigns down, peeks through it’s cool shelter.

Moon bright and full, hanging alone in the sky, I know how it feels.

Scent of some flower, twitching at my senses, someday, someone to share with.

Calm, serene and peaceful, oh such a Portland night.

Heart soaring, winds of change, making decisions with others in mind. Not wanting to hurt, sometimes necessary, healthy to move on, alone to heal. Testing the waters, like a new silk shirt, time sliding over my skin, feels so soft. What is next, winds of change. Change to behavior, change to habits, change to dedication, change to basic appreciation of life. Wind can destroy, but wind can also heal.

The vision of mankind stretching out her hand to learn, to explore, to pioneer the vastness of space. Along the trails some fell, but they kept going, kept taking the road, kept making new homes, new trails, safer trails. The trails took them to new, wondrous places, new mountain ranges, new beauty, new riches, new land.

We shall never forget our pioneers. Our prayers to rest their souls extend beyond the heavens so that God may cradle their souls, give their families peace and give us all thought.

“six moons, shining on your face, all of them illuminating your beauty, none of which is as beautiful as your heart and the caring you have shown me in the past”

Looking in the mirror, the dark image becomes a little clearer. Day by day, the bathroom fog lifts.

Sometimes it is meeting someone online that sparks, Sparks a thought that makes me think “Why not?” Sometimes it is a horoscope, so random but so apropos.

Reflecting on one’s own soul is useful, But if the mirror is dirty, I could see an incorrect image. Though I try, everyday, every shower, looking in the mirror, Knowing what I need to do, what I need to improve, The image is still there, still dark, still difficult to shake.

I write poetry, if I can call it that, for my own benefit. I share it for my benefit as well, to expose myself, I think it keeps me more honest. Honesty, after all, is the best mirror of all.