Life is beauty, and life is pain,

a dance of loss, a song of gain.

It shimmers gold, then fades to gray,

a fleeting dawn, a waning day.

 

It lifts us high with whispered bliss,

soft lips that touch, a lover's kiss.

Yet breaks us, bends us, tests our will,

a mountain steep, a climb uphill.

 

It thrills, it aches, it sparks, it wanes,

it hums in blood, it roars in veins.

It is laughter, it is weeping,

a waking dream, a midnight creeping.

 

It is the light that warms the skin,

the fear of losing all within.

It is the hand that pulls you near,

the shadowed doubts, the strangling fear.

 

It is the mundane, the slow, the still,

the silent hours, the quiet will.

It is the rush, the reckless run,

the roaring fire, the setting sun.

 

Yet if we never knew the fall,

would heights be precious things at all?

If never lost in tempest deep,

would peace be something worth to keep?

 

The jagged path, the winding lane,

the burning loss, the hard-won gain,

they carve the heart, they shape the soul,

they make the fractured spirit whole.

 

So let us rise, though winds may chide,

embrace the waves, the turning tide.

For life's not meant to be a line,

its peaks and valleys make it shine.

DEMONS BE GONE

YOU DON'T BELONG HERE

GOD'S LOVE IS STRONG

WITH LOVE THERE'S NO FEAR

Discordant Note

Scratching, floating

Hanging in the air

 

 

Pressure ebbs and flows 

Headpiece filled with straw

 

 

A twisted melody lingers

Confusion and rage entwined 

Resentment's bitter sting

Wrestles with sorrow's whine

 

 

Innocence stolen, trust shattered

By hands meant to protect

 

 

The child within still bleeds

Silently searching, begging for respect 

 

 

Justice denied, our secrets buried

Master manipulator 

A monster cloaked in lies

 

 

Crimes still hidden 

Despite Death's hand

Too late for tortured cries

 

 

Feet of clay now returned to dust

From whence they darkly came

Leaving behind a tangled mess

Of trauma, grief and shame 

 

 

The urge to desecrate, destroy

Wage war upon their grave

Wrestling with guilt, pity and relief 

Yes, he is no more

But I am not yet saved

 

 

This victory feels hollow 

An unearned, empty gift

When wounds still pulse and throb

No closure, the burdens unshift 

 

 

 

I imagine looking for the tombstone,

Fists and soul clenched tight,

Anger, disgust, and rage.

 

 

Shadows cast doubt over my morals,

Compass dysfunctional, truth estranged.

Like Basque tongues tangled with Ainu clicks,

A labyrinth of questions ethics inflicts.

 

 

No tears of mourning shed

No idea the monster was laid to rest

Three years later, a happy accident

Release a demon locked deep in my chest

 

 

How to reconcile the little child

Who needed love and care

With the person now made to carry

This discordant note hanging in the air

 

 

In the depths of this discordance 

Frustration and confusion still rise

Dare I confront the shadows

Curse their peaceful demise?

 

 

Every anguished scream swallowed 

Each day, coerced, suffocated in silence

Transmuting years of buried aches

Why not release in rightful fierce violence?

 

 

Through serpentine paths of healing

Piece by shattered piece remade,

Scars shimmering with untold stories 

Of battles braved and traumas mourned

 

 

In owning all that was endured

By innocent hands and shattered trust

Languidly learning to cradle, soothe

My inner child waiting, weeping in the dust

 

 

Each breath is an act of bravery

Every step is defiant, resolute 

Reclaiming fractured narratives

No longer voiceless or mute

Through my poetry, I find release

May its rhythm grant me peace.

 

 

This journey from victim to victor

Is paved with shards of broken self

Reassembled by courageous hands

Into mosaics of pain and health 

 

 

A symphony of survival

Echoes in the spaces in between

I cannot rewrite my cruel history 

I yearn like others to live and dream

 

 

Beyond the reach of phantom hands

That sought to break and steal and mar

I rise in revolutionary softness

Tempered by battles, reminded by scars

 

 

The discordant note, a stubborn seed, 

Resists the soil, its tyranny decreed, 

Yet woven slow, within the larger frame, 

An ostinato may conquer its shame, 

Finds solace in the weave, a timeless plea, 

Echoing Eliot, Stravinsky rewrites history. 

 

 

 

"Primum non nocere," a principle profound,

 

Not rigid law, but wisdom found.

 

In healing's halls, where choices weigh,

 

It guides the hand, but doesn't sway.

 

 

 

"ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν," a balanced plea,

 

"To benefit, or harm not," complexity's key.

 

Not black and white, but shades between,

 

Where modern medicine's challenges are seen.

 

 

The caduceus gleams, oft misunderstood,

 

While Asclepius' staff stands where healing stood.

 

Symbols twisted, meanings blurred,

 

Yet ethical practice remains undeterred.

 

 

In sterile rooms where decisions loom,

 

Doctors and patients dispel the gloom.

 

They weigh the risks, consider gain,

 

In partnership, to ease the pain.

 

 

 

Some peddle falsehoods, sweet and bright,

 

While truth seeks haven in the night.

 

But evidence-based practice stands tall,

 

Against deception's siren call.

 

 

"Primum nil nocere," evolving still,

 

Not perfection, but good faith's will.

 

To strive for best, while harm to shun,

 

In healing's never-ending run.

 

 

 

In research labs and by bedsides true,

 

Ethical minds seek what to do.

 

Through trials tested, with knowledge bright,

 

They pierce the veil of health's long night.

 

 

 

"To benefit, or harm not," the true decree,

 

A beacon burning, for all to see.

 

Not simple maxim, but complex art,

 

Where science meets the human heart.

 

 

With shared trust, respect held high,

 

Patient and healer together try

 

To chart a course through health's dark sea,

 

With ethics as their guiding key.

 

         "Primum non nocere," oft misapplied,

 

Not absolute, but a principle to guide.

 

In Hippocrates' time and modern day,

 

It's context and intent that hold sway.

 

 

 

The Greek, "ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν," rings true,

 

"To benefit, or at least do no harm," anew.

 

A nuanced approach, not black and white,

 

Balancing risks in healing's light.

 

 

 

The caduceus twined, with wings so bright,

 

A symbol of commerce, not healing's might.

 

Asclepius' staff, with serpent alone,

 

The true emblem of medicine, long known.

 

 

 

In modern clinics, where science reigns,

 

Ethical practice carefully maintains

 

A balance 'twixt benefit and potential harm,

 

With patient's values central to this charm.

 

 

 

Open communication, a cornerstone strong,

 

Where patient and doctor, together belong.

 

In shared decisions, they navigate

 

The complex paths that health dictate.

 

 

 

Some may twist ethics for selfish gain,

 

But true healers strive to ease pain.

 

With evidence-based practice as their guide,

 

They stand against misinformation's tide.

 

 

 

"To benefit, or at least do no harm," evolves still,

 

Not perfection, but good faith's will.

 

From rigorous study, and trials so keen,

 

True healing emerges, complex yet clean.

 

 

 

In healing's art, there's no guarantee,

 

But ethical practice sets conscience free.

 

With care and skill, and wisdom's light,

 

We navigate health's day and night.

 

 

 

Πρῶτον μὴ βλάπτειν, a principle misunderstood,

 

Not black and white, but shades of good.

 

Where healing's art meets science's light,

 

And ethical minds must choose what's right.

 

 

 

The caduceus gleams, a symbol misconstrued,

 

Where commerce and care are often viewed.

 

But Asclepius' staff, with single snake entwined,

 

Represents true healing, carefully refined.

 

 

 

In modern halls where choices weigh,

 

Doctors and patients find their way.

 

Through risks and benefits, they navigate,

 

Shared understanding they cultivate.

 

 

 

Some peddle cures with hollow claims,

 

Exploiting fears for selfish aims.

 

But true healers, with knowledge sound,

 

On evidence their practice ground.

 

 

 

"Primum nil nocere," a guide, not chain,

 

Encouraging thought in health's domain.

 

Balance sought 'twixt act and pause,

 

For healing's not without its flaws.

 

 

 

In research labs and by bedsides too,

 

Ethical minds seek what is true.

 

Through trials tested, their wisdom grows,

 

A beacon bright as knowledge flows.

 

 

 

ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν, the call remains,

 

For those who heal, not those who feign.

 

In partnership with those they treat,

 

They strive to make care more complete.

 

 

          Primum non nocere, a guiding light,

 

Not rigid rule, but wisdom's sight

 

ὀφελέειν ἢ μὴ βλάπτειν, in balance true,

 

Weighing risks and benefits anew.

 

 

 

In halls where healers ply their art,

 

With science, skill, and caring heart

 

They navigate the complex maze,

 

Of modern medicine's intricate ways.

 

 

 

Some twist this creed for selfish gain,

 

Exploiting fears, causing pain

 

But true healers, with ethics sound,

 

Engage with trust,  solid ground.

 

 

 

Caduceus coiled, a symbol pure,

 

Of commerce now, no longer sure

 

Asclepius' staff, the truer sign,

 

Of healing's art, both old and fine.

 

 

Shared decisions, patient and physician,

 

Together they assess, talk with clinician

 

Of risks and hopes, of fears and dreams,

 

Charting a course through health's extremes.

 

 

 

In shadowed corners, whispers grow,

 

Of cures that science doesn't know

 

But evidence-based practice stands,

 

Against the lure of charlatan's hands.

 

 

 

 

Primum non nocere, evolving still,

 

Not perfection, but good faith's will

 

To strive for best outcomes always,

 

While minimising harm's dark haze.

 

 

 

From trials rigorous, knowledge flows,

 

Not from deceit or cunning shows

 

The path of healing, nuanced, true,

 

Leads through care, both old and new.

AN OUT OF CONTROL

CONTROL FREAK

WHO REALLY IS A GEEK

WANTS TO CONTROL

EVERYTHING

THE WORLD JUST SEEMS SO BLEAK

GMOs AND  PESTICIDES

IN  EVERYTHING YOU EAT

GENETICALLY MODIFIED HUMANS TOO

WITH MRNA TECHNIQUE

CHEMTRAILS POISON OUR AIR

HE WANTS SATELLITES EVERYWHERE

TO WATCH YOUR EVERY MOVE

HE TALKS ABOUT THIS TOO 

HE'S RUINING OUR LAND

AIR AND WATER  SUPPLY

DEPOPULATION IS HIS PLAN

YOU HAVE TO WONDER WHY

I THINK THE DEPOPULATION CLAN

SHOULD DO US ALL A FAVOR

AND START WITH THEMSELVES

NOT ANYONE ELSE

AND RID  US OF THIS BEHAVIOR

PSYCHOPATHS SHOULD BE LOCKED UP

NOT FREE TO RUN AMUCK

PAY ATTENTION STAY ALERT

BEFORE EVERYONE GETS HURT

HE'S PAYING FARMERS TO FALLOW LAND

AND KILLING OFF THEIR LIVESTOCK

I GUESS HE WANTS US ALL TO STARVE

OR EAT HIS GMO CRAP

WE MUST BAN GMOs AND ALL THEIR PESTICIDES

END THE BIOWEAPON  PLAN

BEFORE ALL LIFE IS LOST

NOTICE HOW MANY SPECIES ARE

ENDANGERED OR EXTINCT

WITH THIS RAMPANT TOXICITY

WE ARE NEXT THAT IS THE PLAN

DUE TO HIS ECCENTRICITY

HE'S OBSESSED WITH VACCINES

NOW GMO MOSQUITOS

FLYING SHOT  MACHINES

WE REALLY NEED TO BEAT THOSE

DR ZELENKO LEFT US ZSTACK

FILLED WITH SUPPLEMENTS MOST OF US  LACK

GOOD TO HAVE THOSE WHEN UNDER ATTACK

VITAMIN C, D3,K2

QUERCETIN, ZINC CAN ALL PROTECT YOU

MAGNESIUM,SELENIUM,BROMELAIN

EVERYONE'S DIFFERENT SO ENERGY TEST

TO FIND THE THINGS THAT WORK FOR YOU BEST

EAT ORGANIC,FILTER WATER AND AIR

USE ENERGY MEDICINE DON'T HAVE DESPAIR

SIGN PETITIONS BOYCOTT STUFF

LET THEM KNOW WE'VE HAD MORE THAN ENOUGH

PROSECUTE THOSE WHO CAUSE ALARM

AND DO SO MUCH HARM

WE CAN HAVE HEAVEN OR HELL ON EARTH

IT'S UP TO US TO DO THE WORK

MAY GOD SEND HEAVENLY BLESSINGS OUR WAY

TO SAY THE THINGS WE NEED TO SAY

SO MANY DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES OUT THERE

I THINK IT BEST FOR US TO SHARE