into the light


praying for justice

praying for peace


into the night


fighting for justice

fighting for peace


evolve into the light


no need to fight

let the night be lit with stars

and moonlight

let silence fill the air

with love

may all wounds be healed


hear our prayers

hear our prayers

hear our prayers


tired of the suffering

it’s killing us












BLOGGER RECOGNITION nominated me for the Blogger Recognition Award.



1. Thank the blogger(s) who nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
2. Write a post to show your award.
3. Give a brief story of how your blog started.
4. Give two pieces of advice to new bloggers.
5. Select up to fifteen bloggers you want to give this award to.
6. Comment (or pingback) on each blog to let them know that you’ve nominated them, and provide a link to the post you’ve created.


1. Thank you Red Bearx ❤

Your kindness, compassion and humor have touched my soul…your song and music  bring me close to your sweet angelic voice and peaceful wisdom mind..i love your poetry…you are my favorite poet…unpretentious, and romantic, gut wrenching and spontaneous, humorous, and wise….and i am so honored to have met you…even if its only here at WP…..


2.  (Done)

3.  My blog started during one of the most traumatic experiences of my life….

I initially wanted to name my blog : SONGS OF SAMSARA, but when i googled it

that title was already chosen by a musician for his album….so i changed the “S”

to “Z” .


4.  I really don’t think i am qualified to give advice to new bloggers….i only know

that i enjoy reading  biographical and autobiographical  poetry and stories…

My poetry is mostly from gut wrenching experiences in love….

I chose to expose the dirty side….and how it affected me….purging

my emotions….sometimes in a state of drunken bliss

I do not write down my poetry….i compose it straight from my keyboard…and

mostly with no or little revision….maybe half of it has been written while

drinking wine or gin and tonic….i am quiet mostly with my emotions…and

the alcohol helps me open up….like popping the cork….


5.   I want to give this award to:

When you read his blog, it’s like reading a good book you can’t put down….

Always entertaining and exhilarating stories from his life !  I hope he writes

a book some day !!!


6.  (Done)



UN RAP juju







sitting here about to





your pack




my lips touch your skin

and i suck

you in



i quit


and start again

and again




my virgin lips

that never kiss


they only


and blow





you’ve fucked me up


but i still go



like a hoe


i do you

and do you


do you

and do you

do you


do you






do you

do you

do you

do you

do you

do you



always want



















I had a dream about the Dalai Lama last night.  He was on a roller coaster ride with a bunch of kids behind him… he was in control of the speed and made it go REAL FAST…when it stopped… everyone was extremely tired and I had to help them get into bed…they were so sweet and well behaved kids…as I left them to sleep one of them wanted to say a Tara mantra (like saying your prayers)… I had forgotten how to say it…so the tired Dalai Lama said it laying down …

Funny how dreams come together from bits and pieces of your daytime encounters…

I was talking to someone earlier that day how my life was like a scary roller coaster ride…

I also saw several photos of the Dalai Lama before I went to bed…

I also thought about a mantra before I went to sleep…

I also watched a documentary last night about child trafficking & Hollywood Satanic influence…



I also mentioned to someone before i went to sleep  , how i am not very good at writing prose and storytelling….and that was why i wrote poetry instead…haha

I have been writing down my dreams for decades….it’s like trying to interpret cryptic poetry……sometimes my poetry is very cryptic….like dreams….


I revised  this post exactly  27 times already…………


i rarely revise my poetry…..







the rocks that rumble silently are mine

earth sounds i hear beat rolls across my room

i scratch the beat  that’s dead created time

and weave into this solid mass time loom

rock is the photograph of times ruin

continuation clings like a disease

yet the living sleep inside a tomb

entertaining themselves with memories

winding antique clocks under christmas trees

ignorant of timeless and flawless days

writing diaries and painting the seas

chiseling emotions from time stained clays

and i pity us, if we too follow

these blind hypocrites  in time they wallow

















it’s half past three

i had my pee

smoking a cigarette

for free


waiting for sleep to kick in

the cats still out

and i am in


my neck is sore

coughing from smoke

the world is dying

it’s not a joke


my hands are dry

from so much washing

i forgot to think of flossing


thank god i have

food to eat

and toilet paper

by my seat