I've been reading poetry and other literature from Ukraine and Gaza in wartime and I'm amazed by the raw humanity of it all.

"Because there are no atheists in war, after all. Shield and protect us Lord," from Ukranian writer Ella Leus.

These buds are obscene, daring to rise like a Phoenix, bursting forth from the dead, tiny Jesuses, rising up from their eternal sleep, that isn't so eternal!

How long I been reading and writing.

I almost caught a poem flitting in the empty spaces, clinging to the wet of shaking umbrella. It's shadow a sigh of relief smothered in a closing Cafe door on a stormy night. Jingle, she's here. She tiptoes on eggshells, and she means what she does not say.

On my morning walk in the hood, I dodged a Crack head scavenger and a skunk. My heart wants to connect my head says not today.

Reading philosophy now magazine on the unhealthy political accusations and/or cancelations we're having. Instead of actual conversations.

Made my son pig n a poke for breakfast. From supernatural episode the mystery spot.

An interview with Ada Limon, US poet laureate

Learned a new word that applies to my life. Tsundoku. The practice of allowing books to pile up without reading them.

Coloring at work.