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Tribalism kills. It’s all about sects.

The Chosen Peephole

Tribalism is the ultimate fence
Steeling our humanity
In the vast nest of human kind
Seeing soully the hole
As our own
Peeps
A life stile
Wresting on
Just encase
Hedging every abet
As planet that weigh
Over-raided
Know ledge is power
Getting
The benefits
Of the doubt
And every bluff
A bull work
Getting to the bottom
Of every thing
Evolution as mirror sects
In sum
In farced buy
That solitary rule
Never dis member blind fold
Left with hope against hope
Too see it our way
As awe
A bout sharing
Blind spots
Fooly with
Won’s peers

The power of peace within is the seed that is necessary to produce peace in this brutal and inane whirled.

The Measure of Awe Things

We should awe
Have a ruler
Incite of us
In holy weigh
A prays all
Choices just
I can make
Knot as soully subject to
The outer effacing whirled
Not as mirrorly deferent
To the powers that be
Aristocratic and low-brow
Bungling bossiness
Or sweetly seductive
Cheap and easy choices
The E’s of failings
And those awe in habiting vices
Entreating others
Taking it
Personal and not
Living beyond
The great divide
Wear one side fits awe
Discerning a bit crazy
In ward and out ward
Just to halve
A ruler inside and out
The blest surrender ever
Values coming at accost
In during lessens
To live within
And without
In the mist of means and ends
Finding won peace

Winning certainly isn’t everything. Loss, and vulnerabilities of all types, teach us stuff that untrammeled winning cannot teach us, and actually gets in the way of learning such stuff…

Having It Awe

It was a sloppy mistake
Often maid
Wanting it all
Only to find won
Losing it
Awe
Offed called
Amid life cries
Simpler times
Quiet weighs
Equaling having it
Awe

It’s better to give than receive. It’s even better to give and receive freely…

Given a Way

He couldn’t take
A hint
That he was
On the right track
Soully the weigh he was billed
Bettor to give
Then receive
Abetting awe
That is good
He had
That given
A way
As soully like
Thirst things thirst
That everlusting
Presence

We live in an awesome universe. Partake.

A Pitcher Worth

The creator cradled
The big dipper
A pitcher worth
A thousand worlds
Full of mothers
Milky way
Life blanketing
What might
Vary well be
A parent darkness
Lessed wee not look up
To the heavens offering
Presents night and day

Here is a funny little poem about the dirty lies we are tolled every day…

Fax on the Ground

The machine is plugged in
They have maid
The paper
Fooly, loaded
Running atop speed
Pay know mine
To the fax on the ground
As rolling in the sheet
With reams of iniquity
In a flooring coverup
A forced
Beaten to a pulp
Fiction
As in difference
Between wooden will
And feat on fire

I suspect that “winning” our humanity has far less to do with “winning” than simply responding to inhumanity with humanity and letting go of the outcome. As aptly put by Albert Schweitzer: “Not only is example the best way to teach, it is the only way.”

Who is Flailing as a Human?

They loathed
That suffocatingly small
Coroner
Of their life
Where those who no you
Could careless
As cool and cruel
Seaming awe the same
Knot!
Living in a flog
Unable to pass
And the E’s
As batting a lash
Without adieu
Or quiet unbelievably
Even less class
In vane looks
At the lessor
Of too evils
I‘s piercing
Like stuck pigs
Who can
Live on
The lowest forum of spam
®®®®®®®!!!
Is there a groan up
In such plays
And what kind
Of choices
Does won halve
As taken
Buy the lyin’s share
Every won
A victim
As caste
A side
And what passably might be
What is
Wholly
Their lessen