I don't want to be sad,
Because when I'm sad
There are clouds in the sky,
And clouds always bring rain.
Maybe not today.
Maybe today will be sunny,
And maybe tomorrow will too.
But eventually those pearly clouds
Will turn into treacherous tempests
That rain lightning, and flash floods,
And hail thunder that booms
Like cannons in my ears,
Until my ears hum songs
About sunken voyages that met a watery tomb
Before land could be glimpsed
Upon the crows nest.
I'd rather be happy.
Happy as a clam
So that there are no clouds in the sky.
And if there are any, they'll whisk by
As wisps of cotton or incense
That is only recognized by
The faint scent of metal it leaves
When it is somewhere else,
But not here.
Let my Lord help you pass the hopelessness
and wage battle against the demon
that forces blade to wrist.
Let Him lay you gently down
upon still waters and place softly
to your troubling mind, a kiss.
Let my Lord rise you from the mat you lay
that forces needle to vein.
Let Him heal what poison race through
your body to bring you close
to where He reigns.
Do not thrash! Be quiet. Be still.
In the silence, behold the Lamp on a hill.
Let my Lord temper your evil thoughts against neighbors
who build rage and hate and forces
hand to gun.
Let Him gather forgiveness in abundance
which opens your fists and lessons the weight,
bringing understanding to why he hung.
Let my Lord place His hand over your troubled ears
that hears words from false prophets, demons and men
Let Him be your fortitude that calms your seas.
Start a prayer with Heavenly Father and finishes Amen.
Do not thrash! Be quiet. Be still
In the silence, behold the Lamp on a hill.
It seem to have started when she was a kid
She never could do what the other students did
They seen her as strange while teachers seen who she was
No one was able understand the unique things that she does
She always had struggled with the person she was on the inside
Relationships formed with others always seemed to collide
There was always this search or mission to find the right one
Friendships never last but always stopped where they begun
This lost girl eventually grew into a lost adult
Losing life's trophy doing what she was taught
Put others first and put yourself in second place
Each time she tried, things blew up in her face
For years she has wondered where she belongs
Through each friendship her pain just prolongs
She thought about shutting out the world to remain alone
Thinking she would see better days now that's she's grown
She's been lost for some time now seeking social improvements
Instead of a lifelong friend she receives emotional punishments
She dreamt a dream of a requisite requiem far away,
For the unrequited love of life, led her lanky lamb's limbs astray.
To where she'd dither along the moor's marsh land,
Braved the dreary draughts of randy rain and hindless hail.
She'd return without fail in her frailty.
To where the shadows cast by the leaves of the alders,
Speckled across her open back like silver freckles.
She'd sway in the clearest of days, and lay in the ravage of rain.
And in saltier slathers of gold graced spit,
She'd await the pair of goldfinches to descend upon her silver speckled clit.
Await the trill of their liquid song, sung by their acetone tongue ,
Pecking a silver chime over the pleasure of grated groans.
“No.” Her iron lungs lunged and quivered.
She supposed he knew from his exhale and shiver.
Awake, now, lesserly known nor knowing, moreso,
awaken, alone, but with the haunting face of a *** upon her window,
“outside, look outside”
It called, so she stayed inside, unknown, laying low from the randy ravage of his rage.
9/11/2025
Today, I watched
From the bus garage
As you came outside
And casually brushed the snow
Off of the car,
Preparing to drive the kids
Away from me
And in that moment
I broke down and cried,
Remembering how long it's been
Since we were together
As a family
In that moment,
I wanted to embrace you,
And I wanted to help you
Like I always have
Over the years
In that moment,
I wanted to hear
The familiar chaos of little voices
Loudly protesting
As they are unceremoniously pulled
Away from the warm glow
Of electronics,
And forced to march
Into the cold November snow
In that moment,
I wanted to tell you that
Everything will be okay,
And that the truth will soon shine
Through the fog of his lies,
Like a beacon in the night
I wanted to tell you
That our love for our children
Will burn through the blackness
Of fear and hatred,
Forever destroying the evil
That tries to keep us apart.
Wind argues with leaves—
I walk past the noise of men,
Listening to rain.
You did not steal with hands or gun,
No gold was taken in the sun,
But hearts were robbed of gentler things—
Of trust, of bread, of blossoming springs.
You cast your mark and turned away,
And thought the world would bloom as May,
Yet winter came with hollow eyes,
And children wept beneath the skies.
Your silence signed the cruel decree,
Your comfort bought their misery,
And though your purse was never filled,
Your soul grew lean, your mercy stilled.
The thief need not break locks or bars—
He steals the light from out the stars;
And in that night, both thief and king
Are bound by one unholy ring.
So count your coins, and guard your name—
The ledger knows, and writes in flame;
For every lie that power tells,
Your vote for him made you a thief as well.
He wouldn’t feed — his People —
Though Hunger — made them Pale —
He stored the Grain — in Secret —
And called their Pleas — a Tale —
Ten Million — went to Silence —
Disguised — as Mercy’s Sum —
His Wife — received the Portion —
The Needy — received None —
The Bread — became a Symbol —
Of Justice — left to Spoil —
The Poor — were Ghosts at Supper —
Who labored — for his Toil —
And still — the Wind — remembers —
The Names — the Ledgers — signed —
For Truth — though Starved — is Patient —
It Feeds — the Human Mind —
My fortune
self-expression
To this
the Lord has willed
For other men
it’s land or gold
By verses
I’m instilled
My riches
so enamored
To couplets
I belong
And leave
my only legacy
In meter, rhyme
— and song
(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)
A Pint of lager.
I did my best
To be a middle-class person
Drank good wine
That is what people of elevated taste do
I never liked wine
Upmarket vinaigrette
I only drink beer these days
Finding my way back to my roots
Those days, when we drank big glasses of lager
And criticized a fine writer
Someone as holy as Knut Hamsun.
We wanted to impress the girls, so I wore
A French beret, a serious intellectual who read
Every article I could come across before
Voicing an opinion
So we said many stupid things
But you cannot be wise if you have
Never been a dolt.
I have lost my precious
mien, it is so
Tiring to be serious about oneself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cedar fragrance floats softly in the air
like old ghosts awakening after sleep.
Inside, yellowed envelopes carry
the silent burden of hands
that never delivered their confessions.
A brittle map traces borders
that dissolved with the century's breath.
In the probing moonlight,
tarnished brass hinges moan.
Beneath folded sweaters,
apologies fossilize,
and grief settles like dust
on unworn wedding lace.
A sapphire brooch recalls
the heartbeat under a collarbone
where it pinned courage tight
until surrendering.
Trapped light holds
what daylight wouldn't understand.
Within attic walls
the lid groans echoing
how memory bends
under its own weight.
Secrets don't suffocate here~
they become the wood's grain.
Ready
to tell
the tale
of dog
without
a tail.
It was
lovely
pet of
Alice.
Both walked
at morn.
One day
it ran
away.
Alice
wept, but
no trace.
No more
to tell :
story
ends here.
Alice
forgot.
The poet, a spellbinding wizard,
experiences the magic power
of creative imagination as it
vigorously knocks at the
present moment, inspiring poetic
truth or fantasy with striking
imagery and genuine feeling.
Whether positive or negative,
personal, or social, this experience
silences the world instantly to create.
Words are like delicate butterflies
fluttering slowly in a sealed jar until
the lid is carefully opened.
Words rhythmically ebb and flow
and loop around, wrapping and linking,
binding proudly,
beaming with simplicity and splendor.
Quill of Defiance
A poet is more than a penman—
not merely a rash historian of verse.
We shatter the ordinary,
aspiring to the nirvana of heaven,
unwavering in the face of decay.
We explore the remnants of society,
discern the divine from the false,
cast aside the sustenance fed to tired souls
and build soaring meditations from ash.
Written by: Sotto Poet
An assemblage of stones and grass
pose to reveal a canopy of clouds
trailing like petioles of luster beneath
my head, air-stroked by eve's approach.
I feel the hours passing wretchedly unhurried
as nimbus fog breathes of radiance,
not partly dim but like a tiara
warmly shimmering, glossing over its cape
in daring pink...transforming in a blink;
flare of haze bursting in the air.
Wondering if I should turn away from this dazzling
spectacle of colored skyfoam ,
I watch my body writhe in disgust, this soul raked
with discontent where the burden of beauty grates this skin :
Till cloudscape evanesces, reminding me of past anger unfinished which mirrors my autumnal haze, lingering ... still
Soldiers standing on the Front Line
Defending and Protecting our Freedom
Military sacrifice
The aroma of War
Battleground fight
Soldier’s loss their lives
America’s Flags waving in Soldier’s excellence
The honor that follows
Thank you for your service
Hearty salute
Still standing tall to represent
Carrying yourself with Dignity
Echoes of Soldier’s voices who have gone before
Trumpets sound announcing your bravery
All the women and men
Saluting again and thank you for your continued service
Every sunrise and sunset a Soldier’s Reflecting image
The Hymn of the Fallen
Rise up once again
God Bless America
Blessings to all servicemen and women
Proudly and Honor
You have captured America’s heart
Walk on and March
You have America’s support
Happy Veteran’s Day
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