Poetry Is A Way Of Looking At

We Travel Far And Fast And As We Pass Through We Forget Where We Have Been

There Are Aspects Of Human Life That Are Not Purely Destructive, And There Is A Need To Pay Attention To The Things Around Us While They Are Still Around Us. And You Know, In A Way, If You Don't Pay That Attention, The Anger Is Just Bitterness.

I Say To My Breath Once Again, Little Breath Come From In Front Of Me, Go Away Behind Me, Row Me Quietly Now, As Far As You Can, For I Am An Abyss That I Am Trying To Cross.

We Are Asleep With Compasses In Our Hands.

If You Can't Bear What's Happening To The Natural World, If You Can't Bear The Way We Treat Each Other; If You Can't Bear Wars, You Just Can't Bear The Whole Idea Of War, Which Is Possibly Unavoidable. But Still, You Resist It. Because You Just Hate Our Treating Each Other That Way And Causing That Suffering.