“my dot under the sun”

how i wish i could be like a ‘durian fruit’, inspite of the stenchful yak, the meat is sweet, ahhhhhhhhh… yessssss, i am a poet, writing a song literature, “hallelujah hallelujah peace to the world, peace to the world” yet i am the antithesis of the matter.

gathering awarding honouring all the glamour of Hollywood, long gowns smiles and laughter; reciting dancing songs; shouting Peace Peace Peace… messages roll !


behind Julia’s back, a Judas coin is thrown , a poisonous kiss bestow, the crab mentality persists: not only like stinking dungs that adhere on skins within reach, but also exposes viruses that is worst than melanoma cancer that kills.

PEACE can’t be created… not on moi, not on him her them… no place no home no town no country, can enforce it- but instead must be meditated within moi, i have the choice to feel it live it show it extend it enjoy it… so it gets to contaminate others… only then and only this can PEACE get to flourish.


what an excellent poet, a poignant charm… dreaming in the languages of flowers… choosing the moonlit glow to abhor despise condemn the stagnant river… pretend to cry to empathize, “*^*# sic his sic… kuno”__ gads bunch of hypocrites hypocrites hypocrites, abounding in politics, religion, families, notwithstanding, colours, language, age, race, shape size.

i start Peace in my individuality

ade a

i exist i am responsible for moi and for others

for i can’t have peace without me being at peace.

i chose Peace … there’s nothing that i can’t reach

i expand i explode, only then, that i find ‘my dot under the sun’.


philosophical thoughts by: Maelan Koia Sydney
wednesday 3:29pm 19 july 2017 sydney nsw australia

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