December 6th, 1989

All 14 young lives 

that were cut short 

on December 6th, 1989
at  the Engineering Polytechnique de Montreal.

That was yesterday's Femicide, something very 
mind boggling, and hard to accept, even we hear

almost similar events like this today. 

As a parent of a young girl who that day wasn't 

feeling too well decided at the last moment 

to cut short the afternoon classes, 

when the city, the couty,the world faced 

that  TRAGEDY around 5:15 pm. 

14 beautiful young ladies at the engineering faculty. 

were killed because they were WOMEN and

another 13 people injured. 

So I look at my daughter and think of all those

parents, brothers, sisters,families who have to

turn to their hearts to remember and see these

beautiful YOUNG GIRLS. 

R.I.P.

nb: photo taken from a review. 

 

Just Hello

Hello friends, readers and photo or ideas
snatchers. Personally I do not believe in

the numbers of people who keep coming

for my ideas or writing, but then why 

should I complain...

The reason is that it's madening to see 

individuals who like to borrow (not to 

say steal) someone else material.

If I like something I always take time

to reach the author and ask permission

to use its work. 

Now with the AI people, they come take what

they want and with AI they create something

that originally is not theirs.

Oh well, sorry for my venting, but at times

it helps to think twice before I publish

anything.

NB: Thanks to those readers who contacted

me in private and explained themselves. 

The Wall

A wall, what is a wall in the life of humans.

It shows the beauty and the ugliness,

the ups and downs with no certain features.

Can a wall be always clean or blank,

I do not believe so. It's part of the human 

species way of living. Walls were, are, will be

used as a background to fool the viewer without

realizing he was manipulated by the intricate

veins in the wall.

Artists use the wall for backup, 

singers use it for ambiance,

meteorologists use it for meteo,

other use it for black taughts.

WERE ARE WE, 

ME THE WRITER 

OR

YOU THE READER 

FALL IN THIS 

CATEGORY???

Look at me

Can I hide my feelings from you?

Unforgetable our leisure time we

spent along the shores of the

magestic ocean with all it's

colorful mornings and evenings

just for our eyes. Cries from the

seaguls waking or just drifting 

from rocks to boulder, a floating

tree branch or even better, the old

hull of a boat to plan and find 

their meal, reminding us that we 

dependent on nature and our hearts.

Do not weep if you can't read

my feelings, I'm like the wind,

sometimes you feel me on your

body, sometimes you see me,

but one thing is sure, you can

never hold me tight, nor keep

me prisoner,

I was never ment to stay.

If only...

Look into my eyes and if you can see

the untold words written,

but not visible to the world, then you are the

lucky one. If they make any

sense, than you know that they are

part of my world and maybe yours also.

Look at my face and see my smile

at receiving your messages or even just

a postcard, my smile grows if I receive

your call, even if you don't talk to me.

I can't believe or say that my millions

words are just a dream. Feeling you

besides me, feeling your breath without

opening your lips. 

Go away dreams that I can't reach,

just because you are an impossible dream. 

Sunny children

What a subject to approch...

My blood fumes when children
suffer, I don't care if they are
poor, rich, white, black, different

backgrounds, different language,

different beliefs, spoiled, shy, if they
put a tantrum once in a while,

THEY ARE CHILDREN

They are respected as children

and don't subject them to hunger,

atrocities,mutilations, or even

premature death.

They are the blood of our blood,

the flesh of our flesh, our present

and future.

I can't say that I went through a rough

time growing up, a life like all normal

children of parents who broke their

back to give a better life and future

then theirs.

Bad times always existed like 

wars,flood,fires,earthquakes, but

also atrocious people who could

not stand other people especially

young children who had a real long

memory. So not to go through the

consequences would destroy these

poor angels WHO HAD NO FAULTS.

NB: this photo is an AI and not mine.

 

 

Poetry...

Poetry is an assembly of words
reflecting our world, hiding the
cries of the stars like long 
glistering strings sown to the 
clouds, and balancing from
the breath of new lovers who
are caught in their own 
poetry world. Why O why do

I feel the weight of the world

on my shoulders, that weight

I did not create it, rather it was

created for a reader to stop,

think and reflect.   

Messy world

We are living in a very messy world.

Where reality and fiction go hand in hand.

People don't realize the mess they are 

creating, WE the humans believe we are

the master of this universe, and all is

permitted.  But look here, what do you really

see, phantoms, superiority of ones against

others. A flower that is not a real flower, but

just result of fanta-science. A science they say

is so advanced that eventually it will surpass

the HUMAN.