This is why I cannot watch the evening news. ¬†13 minutes of viewing and this writing is my only way to partly purge how I’m left feeling.

Surely, it is easier to love each other versus perilous expressions of violence and death throughout the globe?

Sighs. Tonight I shall write, finish a painting, and pray love and shalom will shower our world.  Tomorrow I shall not watch the news.


I cannot archive my heart
inside walled off chambers of numb.
Rather, the scraping pain of sorrow
unfurls in a sob of release.

Whilst mourners draft stealth exits
under veils of tears,
the angst-stricken fist shakers
protest blocking the way.

No more innocent eyes or unsullied minds.
Drafted into truth far too soon,
children huddle in trembling knots.