Diamonds made of air,
Too precious to share,
Diamonds made by man,
Made only as scientists and dreamers can.

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I dreamt of a day
emptied of all beauty
human beings had banned

autonomy --crucified as a criminal
difference --blended as a flat smoothie
risk --quarantined as a leper
the divine --dubbed as a dunce
science --married as the state religion
journalism --spinning on the web

so, humans were screen-reeducated 
to march in lockstep

the same direction, wearing
the same expressions...

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No lofty dreams to weave..
No grand conquests to achieve..
Just a little nod of admission..
Just a little promise to keep.....

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Biscuit Without Cream

Ujjal Mandal, India

If I lose myself in the dreamland
Where dreams are made of sand,
The real world will seem just a dream
Like a biscuit without cream

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Résumé / Michael Kwack

Love is, like art,

dull without passion.

Marriage is, like enterprise,

vain without fortune.

Home is, like a chair,

awkward without comfort.

Life is, like sleep,

hollow without a dream.

Death* is, like a letter,

absurd without a story.

  *Death means suicide.

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