To write a good letter, take ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ plenty of time ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
Take patience ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ and stir it ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
With the ladle of energy. ¦¦¦¦ fill a cup
With kind thoughts and helpful thoughts, ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ and words strong and true.
Mix all ¦¦¦¦¦ together, and ¦¦¦¦ add ¦¦¦ spice
Some good news, ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ all news that's nice.
¦¦¦¦ seal with a ¦¦¦¦ kiss and stamp it with care;
¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ and presto! 'tis there.
(Blackout of Recipe of a Good Letter by Amos Russel Wells)
Salmon over the fire, we put that out, the sore as ever white squirrel was no rainbow trout as so with ease we enter carts and carry stones to inter arts, beneath our belts with revelry we askance doors and permissively glean and truest artform ever-bent we learn like ghosts with spirits spent, for which one brooding carefree word arises, past-tense like before this coming.
When I feel paralyzed and can't get out of bed,
I remember they're only fears that live inside my head.
So I get up and dress to feel my best
and ultimately chase away the rest.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At first, it was only static~
a hiss between stars,
the sound of space
licking its wounds.
The voices came next:
not human, not machine,
but something that had forgotten
the difference.
They spoke in angles,
in shapes of desire,
syllables bending light
until it bled.
We listened keenly,
our ears
like satellite dishes,
our tongues
like copper wire.
Still, we could not answer.
The message was not for us.
It was the cosmos
talking to itself
in a language
we were never supposed
to understand.
the source wherefrom arises our breath
is found in the cave of our heart, the bliss nest
call it God’s breath, chi or kundalini
poised in stillness, it is here we must rest
hair sweats
paper fans flail
low-decibel sighs
elude altar boys
inspiration
drenches the pews
I’m wishing things were different.
I question what I absolutely cannot change.
I catch myself praying for petty wants.
I see the pretense of my ways.
Some old habits die hard.
AP: 3rd place 2025
As olden
My crate is bothered
Again in milks nestle
Tiler of salt and creek
Abrupts the smitten teaks
So hardened in Finnish
Carved as turnip
Young gentle artisan and I
His trolley rails
From gentle Oranges County
Hearing days labor in gus tide
Ventura he sails
Bringing floors tapping
And in Santa Monica his best hides
Docile Does Defeat
Feathered wide
Apart as stride
Tipping blooms
Cautious feud
Disabled pollens
Meeting mew
Brewing nets
Callous frets collisions
Darkest reflections take
Thought
Desire
Discovery
Passion and create
Construct through craft
Mind Test
Fulfill
Will
Ambition
Precision
Approach
Results
Proven
Ability
Established
Dialog
Concept
Idea
“Pray without ceasing; in everything give
thanks; for this is God’s will for you in
Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5;17-18.
The hands of compassion echo
kindheartedness like Christ conveyed.
To the Good Samaritan’s mind,
cost discounted; duty outweighed.
In disparate worlds without slurs
the hands of compassion echo.
It matters not where needs occur;
they’re unique, unlike art deco.
They are hands that go way beyond
never grabbing, never gripping;
the hands of compassion echo,
off’ring help for someone slipping.
To make the diff’rence in God’s sight,
always pray, give thanks and check - "Oh
that we could know His perfect will!"
the hands of compassion echo.
I'll need a beginners guide to love
you can't shatter a mirror and expect it to reflect
so, how can you break my heart
and it expect it to feel
the same way about you
over and over?
you've run out of luck, this is a dead end,
and the graveyard is nowhere near here
aren't we so lucky to know eachother?
here we are today,
battling one another in the mud
trying to get all our words out
and strangle eachother at the same time
Poetry Tip 101
(A lone voice whispers)
For a dash of exquisite fun
Try to have such a mesmerising style of creativity—when stimulating, visual imagery.
So all those within your prose's proximity:
Can enjoy its delicious delivery
(C) Copyright John Duffy
Once, sat and thought, a hairy brute,
wearing not, a well-tailored suit.
In grunts and growls, he said, "I suppose,
if thumb and fingers should oppose,
it would not be so very dumb",
and patented the opposable thumb.
Dietician vs Mortician
The divide between them’s
not wide
Both deal with cold cuts
One serves ‘em,
the other preserves ‘em
Real comedy is bold
it's straight and blunt
there's no white gloves
or polite niceties
Real comedy is harsh
without playing dirty
it smacks you in the face
and punches in the gut
Real comedy is dark
looks head on at society
points out what's wrong
and shoves it in your face
Real comedy is hot
enrages those with a soul
infuriates those who claim
to have a conscience
Real comedy is cold
sure it gets laughs
make no mistake
it's on a mission
Real comedy is brash
addresses those who
care to make a difference
and want to change the world
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
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