FIBONACCI WORD UNIT AND LINE UNIT PALINDROME POEM
It
is
Rats' star,
Drawn onward,
No devil lived on.
Blessed are they believe they are blessed.
MY DEAR FRIENDS, A PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION
'It's true for me, if I believe it.'
I may believe it, but it may be wrong.
It might be a lie.
So, I may believe that something is wrong,
Or I can refute to believe it, but it can be right.
'There's no right or wrong',
Or there is no truth for me.
Anyway, I must believe in something.
So, I need a virtue.
I need the truth.
Now, all I know is that I have a need.
Can anyone tell me,
Because I need to know,
'Can a virtue be taught? '
FOR JESUS
Shadows of HIS footprints are HIS words
And I love to enclose them all inside
In time
Shadows of HIS words are HIS thoughts
And I love to call them eternal
Because
"Thou shalt speak unto him, and put words
In his mouth:
And I will be with thy mouth,
And with his mouth,
And will teach you what ye shall do." (Exodus 4:15)
And shadows of His thoughts are HIS words
Because His thoughts are incommensurable
And shadows of HIS words are HIS footprints
Because we will become land
And
Because we will be the land needing HIS footprints...
FIVE HAIKU POEMS
Regret
Don't regret the past
It happened for a reason,
So, just look forward.
Life
Eat not to dullness,
Drink not to elevation,
Think innocently
Natural things
In this common world,
Draw new virtues from above
For natural things
Success
So many people
Work long hours,even weeks,
Without successes.
Ethic
To use moral sense
For the betterment of selves
Is quite immoral.
THE END OF TIME (TERZA RIMA SONNET)
I pray, although it's the end of the time,
The angel wakes up to flutter his wings.
Fluffing up the cloud's pillow, he's sublime.
Snowflakes are the angel's feathers, like springs.
They dance with the wind of change, in despair.
The sky glows pinky in the shades of things.
We're like icy trees screaming at the air,
With icy leaves and crystal hearts, we dream
The crystals of wept tears in our prayer.
Within sky vastness is our bleeding scream,
Digging early graves in the war of crime,
While our thread of love weaves wounds for life's gleam.
I pray, although it's the end of the time,
Fluffing up the cloud's pillow, he's sublime.
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