I crossed a crooked creek
a crooked creek I crossed

and there along the other side
was poet, Robert Frost

we found a forkened road
a forkened road we found

we flipped a coin most casually
to choose where we'd be bound

we took the taken road
the taken road we took

and there we saw no difference
no matter where we'd look

I crossed a crooked creek
a crooked creek I crossed

went on my way most gleefully
as so did Robert Frost

It is with a heavy heart
that I end this season of life.
A wonderful and painful chapter
in this book of mine.
It was full of powerful love
and heartfelt memories.

In this next chapter
I will heal this broken heart,
cherish and reminisce
on our past,
and look forward to
a future of possibilities

So long,
lost Love.
May you find joy
in this life,
and may I find you
in the next.

the impact of current
Fourth Industrial Revolution (4IR),
also known as Industry 4.0 revolution
characterized by the fusion of technologies
and explosion of computer sophistication
like artificial intelligence, robotics,
the Internet of Things, and biotechnology,
blurring the lines between the physical,
digital, and biological spheres appellation
follows the First, Second, and Third
Industrial Revolutions,
which focused on mechanization,
mass production, and digitization, respectively

I choose
AII of you people
To be my friends
AIso we have a lot
In common
I am a Christian
And you people
Are also Christians
From birth
To adult life
Also people I am
God's poet
And you people are
AIso a poet
I go to bed early every
Single night
And you people
Also go to bed early
The next day I wake up at
11:00 am
All of you people
AII of you people
Also woke up
At 11:00 am
AIso I have my shower
First thing in the morning

"I wish you wouldn't eat the spiders Mr. House Wren. Plenty of pesky flies and other crawlies about."

"Okay, okay, but the spiders have eight legs. Seems plenty for all.", his complaint.

"You're seeing it wrong, silly bird. They have none to spare, really."

"Fair enough, I'll be on my way then."

"Thank you. But before you go, there's a couple of flies that have been pestering me. Please feel free to bring a fork and whatever seasonings you may prefer."

When I hold this book of poetry,
I see my Grandma's writing dancing in the margins.
I see her voice again.
She commented on verses in her gorgeous, spìdery cursive.
I find that Grandma's favorites are my favorites too.

Orgone Hair at Mute Noon

I asked him if he still loved her.
She had lied to him many times,
but he said he was through now.

His look was one of anger
so, I knew to move on.
His heart, rendered severe,
informed the advice I offered.

Having been there myself,
I could only say it will pass,
and would he like a beer.

Father I praise you
Holy name
You are worth to be
Praise
Also I hope you keep me
Alive every day
Because I hope to be
Alive every day
I just want to be
A part
Of you life
Every morning I
Wake up with the Winter blues
Can you please Father
Remove the Winter blues
From my life
Also Father don't think
I am a liar
Because that is not me Father
I hope you know me by now
I am always telling you
The truth

Wild jaws a flappin’,
reptilian tail a slappin’
Down by the waters edge
sifting through the mud and sludge

Taken there by surprise,
with little green beady eyes
Caught you in a compromise,
hoping you’re not going to die!

Only it controls your fate,
with his jaws he’ll rend then separate!
Head from shoulders,
arms from legs.

In the end you’ll appreciate,
the power of his monstrous gaze
Staring right into your eyes,
death awaits without disguise