When trying to grasp thoughts through our mind’s haze,
It’s like trying to escape a thought maze.
As the bits and pieces accumulate,
How will they connect, how will they relate?
We try to relate them to things we know.
Each thought should be placed right where it should go.
So many topics to assimilate,
We constantly add and have to update.
Without clear focus they may lose their flow,
By first burning to bright then losing their glow.
Without definition, they will not last,
Some good ideas will drift to the past.
Give each thought it’s time, make sure it’s defined,
It will be its best when finely refined.
face to face worlds apart
words go quiet when sad eyes meet
it's hearts' turn to speak
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
How are you doing?
You ask but quickly move on
not waiting for my answer ~
You ask not really wanting to know.
The truth being you don't expect
to hear how I am feeling.
You ask but are quite
satisfied not knowing
so you can resume your fantasy
that I am fine.
The reality is that I'm trying
to hold back the flood gates
long enough for you to manage
to get your act together.
How long are we going to avoid
the elephant in the room?
You're right to not get me started.
Don't go there.
Don’t... Just don’t.
AP: 1st place 2025
Someday I'll have
said all I have to say
but until then...
Hand me the microphone
let me speak my piece
without interruption without hesitation
Sit back and zip it
take a break
it's my turn
We speak in light, though not in tongue, With glances flared and silence sung. No alphabet could ever hold The stories written in the soul.
Yet still we try, with breath and fire To map the stars of our desire, And every word, though lost or plain, Returns as thunder, shaped by rain.
In many parks along peaceful walking trails
wind phones can now be found across the world.
With the help of an old rotary dial telephone,
mourners can speak freely to lost loved ones.
These phones are the direct line to the other side
for those who sadly never got to say goodbye.
Mourners can speak their heart into the wind
to help process their grief on the road to healing.
A phonecall has the power to release built-up anguish
for those longing to attain closure and a sense of peace.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
We poets, writers, misfits of the world
like artist or mystics or troubadours
use our gifts to give insight to others
we offer more pulling back the covers.
We did not fit in with most of our peers.
When young we were often taunted to tears.
We often were quiet in our own zone.
And most of the time you’d find us alone.
We’re awkwardly honest most of the time.
Our minds think rhythmically also in rhyme.
Counting syllables can be frustrating.
Keep the lines in each verse relating.
Through each medium the end is the same.
Sharing our thoughts is the name of the game.
Dare I show others, what it is I see?
A path one may take, to set themselves free.
The words that I speak, should give them a clue,
Open a doorway for them to go through.
By offering others an explanation.
Each one can see their part of creation.
I will share with them the thoughts of my soul,
To them the beauty of Love will unfold.
Would I dare die with my song still unsung?
Like a tower’s bell that's never been rung.
Nay I say, for today I'll bare my soul.
The story I’ve been given must be told.
A tapestry of words, I'll share with thee,
The essence of Truth that's been shared with me.
A brief but deep connection
As we lock eyes across the room
And I have a sense of pain
I feel the saddest surrender
To what life does to you
Over the incessantness of time
I watch as she so slowly settles
Muscles not so lithe in age
But wide eyes still locked with mine
Somehow it is a shared moment
Perhaps a camaraderie that we share
Age borne aches give the same knowing
There is nothing souls can do
But live out the gift of time
The Universe has lovingly bestowed
Different species but each enduring
Living in the same time and space
And having some symbiotic purpose
That is the perplexity of life
© AllenA 2025
Coming back home, after a long stint south,
I passed the blue sign on the turnpike that reads
“Massachusetts Welcomes You.”
Under the “Welcomes,” some Mayflower blooms,
And a chickadee perches there, under the "You.”
I’d seen this bird busying our woods as a boy,
Seen its black helmet with small streaks of white,
Flitting from thickets to rest on a branch,
Or maybe on mother's stone up on the hill.
From there, it’d cheer the winter woods with a call:
“Chicka DEE DEE DEE!”
Standing as still as a young boy knows how,
I’d see how it puffs out its tiny, tan chest,
Then sends forth the words
It hopes someone might hear:
“Hello!”
“Please be careful!”
“Let’s share what I’ve found!”
Sometimes, my human chest puffs out as well,
Set to deliver my own human calls:
“Hi, there.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So, where are you from?”
Still, some calls get stuck on their way to my throat,
And with all of my puffing, I can’t get them out.
Whenever I try, I feel misunderstood,
And the message gets lost from one tree to the next.
Chickadee, have all songs for your feelings been found
Or do some stay inside, never making a sound?
nothing like three glasses of wine
to loosen the tongue and
park inhibitions on the wayside
if only i had known
that's all it takes
AP: 3rd place 2025
i sat alone in silence
letting the sky talk back to me
in all its wondrous glory
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
they say actions speak louder than innuendos
so true and when you speak in riddles
know that your subtleties are lost on me
i'm left not knowing how to feel
so if my responses seem anything but direct
i admit that it is absolutely so
i'm often in a quandry and have no words to say
AP: 3rd place 2025
you're attentive and say the right things
when you're good, you're very good
i wish i knew what needs to be said
what to say to set you ablaze
in order for you to light my fire
i don't want to tell you what i like
or worse tell you what i need
truth be be told, i'm not really sure and
i refuse to be responsible for putting words to it
in fact i want you to make the effort
to figure out what will please me
is that too much to ask?
i am reaching for the stars?
please make the effort to figure it out
it's in your best interest, that's no doubt
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Words of wisdom spreads everywhere in this world,
Through the powerful mouth of every individual.
It's like a sound of a bee, you heard from the tree.
While you're sitting alone in a lonely morning.
Communication is the good term to explain
A bee's sound that you heard, from their house near to you.
The lonely morning turns into chaotic, that
You can't handle while you're in a confusion state.
Stand alone with your own two feet and try to speak.
Explain in front of them the wonderful words
You've discovered from your experience in this world.
Sharing those things with them made your heart relieved.
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