Poetry
Neither hobby
nor pastime
its grip ever
grows
Its hold on my
heart
through the drought
and the snow
Each word
that it sends me
each phrase
to impound
And blessing
the silence
my Savior
— resounds
(1st Book of Prayers: August, 2025)
Divine Wind
Shinto
or Buddhist
the Samurai
served
Their honor
and legiance
in blood
was preserved
The sword
as their mantle
and spiritual
Lord
Death
was their preference
dishonor
— abhorred
(Shinjuku Museum: October, 2003)
Betwixt & Between
Better or worse
those two oxymorons
Lying in wait
entrapping the weak
Lo and Behold
they claim self-importance
Lo and Behold
thoughts watered and meek
Polar extremes
they float barely conscious
To lure you between them
and hold you quite mad
Bye after Bye
they muddle your choices
Bye after Bye
— good orphaned with bad
(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)
Wrap your poem
around nothing
its bow mocked
in relief
Each word
but a gesture
of empty
deceit
Wrap your verse
in a vacuum
where all speech
is abhorred
The power
of emptiness
alone
— and unscored
(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)
“The darkened sky stole my tears” and left me
to face the threat of cancer with deep doubts.
Fear overwhelmed me, my tears absentee,
dreading the shadows of my whereabouts.
Not hiding my bald head maybe was dumb;
my plague, the curse of chemo, I abhorred.
Then I read the beginning of wisdom
is found in the fear (reverence) of the Lord.
God’s Word took precedence, shedding His light
on the darkness that had engulfed my soul.
Reading Psalms / Proverbs long into each night,
God’s promises put worry on parole.
My doctor is honest, tells me no lies;
cancer is gone now but may be returning.
Nevertheless, my faith in God survives
and godly fear is a lesson I’m still learning.
The mind is a weapon,
The pen is a sword.
A mind of aggression,
Can’t be explored.
The mind is a weapon,
The pen is a sword.
A world in depression,
Can’t be ignored.
The mind is a weapon,
The pen is a sword,
A land in transgression
Can’t be restored.
The mind is a weapon
The pen is a sword
A heart of confession,
Can’t be abhorred.
The mind is a weapon
The pen is a sword.
My Spirits profession,
Is knowing My Lord.
Echoes of the silent shore into our past it transports
Calling me to my memories long ago stored
Safely put away
for days like today
when I need you and my eyes are red and sore
Echoes of the silent shore make me want you more
than I have truly wanted anyone ever after or before
To have and hold you
wrapped in your arms too
when you want to hear then out my heart will pour
Echoes of the silent shore haunt me more than before
Prior to our parting, nothing about you I abhorred
all times I fumbled
toppled and tumbled
Besides losing you, is nothing I regret more
Echoes of the silent shore left me alone to explore
Regret filling my heart spilling over I can’t ignore
We’re not together
I’m iron fettered
Without you near all disappeared that I adored
Echoes of the silent shore walks us on the dance floor
You wandered into my life through the open door
I want you to know
I can’t let you go
Since you’re gone emptiness cuts me to the core
Echoes of the silent shore stay with me on your accord
When you were here each time you smiled galore
In my dreams you stay
Never go away
And every single day I love you more
for I soar the unrestricted skies
a terrestrial to bring my demise
how lowly of me to die by the sword
such a small forgiving creature abhorred
drive the wavered blade through my diapsid
a symbol of freedom, now fallen and placid
there was an old man named Ford
who thought history was absurd
he said it was all bunk
then his company produced a junk
and the Edsel became the car most abhorred
there was an old man named Ford
who thought history was absurd
he said it was all bunk
then his company produced a junk
and the Edsel historically became the car most abhorred
BAD SANTA
Christmas Eve Santa went to a party
And got drunk on wine, beer and aged
whisky
He slept all through Christmas day
To Mrs clause's dismay
Poor kids were left crying round a bare tree...
FROSTY'S DEMISE
Frosty was in a bit of a muddle
Started melting and knew there was trouble
Santa said "It's a great shame
And climate change is to blame"
The next day poor Frosty was a puddle...
RIP SCROOGE
Scrooge caught an elf who was taken aback
Bound his hands and then put him in a sack
Watching was Jacob Marley
And he abhorred cruelty
So he gave Scrooge a fatal heart attack...
{"I poisoned myself, thinking about you nonstop, it was annihilating me on the inside, even the melancholy sounds of the river streams that intonate into droplets, do not convey to me the ultimatum of serenity anymore.
Your presence was sufficient to morph me into someone I’m certainly not.
I cut my eyes to the mirror and I cannot recognize myself anymore. I pick up a boulder and heave it, ravaging it to pieces, my hands unfurled to grab one piece of the blade.
Realization creeps up on me, I buried my soul with you, you were above whilst I was below; you would,
make me believe I was worthy of nothing, not even yourself; us standing side by side; a privilege you would insinuate.
I poisoned myself,
the malevolence was too intoxicating,
the sentiments were too bottomless,
how to exude it remained an enigma,
I poisoned myself with a misconception about you,
you weren’t who I thought you were; I haul my feet to the desolate ledge of the flowing water,
I let myself go, when I started to loathe you and your existence.
Like a wolf scrutinizing its prey; once upon a time, you abhorred me, and I loved you.
It seems as if opposites really do attract. What a…
Tragedy."
My mind is in
my country, so
sad, on what's happening.
Foreboding, worrisome
my leaders not good
standing, tail ender.
I just pray for good
my duty as citizen
is being abhorred.
I wait God's miracle
to intervene my country
the way we want it to be.
We all start out like seedlings
Just emerging from the earth,
Alike in that we’re each of us
A product of a birth.
Depending on our genus,
We may grow up tall and straight
Or be scraggly or bristly,
Rooted down by luck or fate.
We’ll be nurtured and be nourished
Or be totally ignored,
Grow in gardens gently tended
Or be trampled and abhorred.
Some of us will sport some flowers
To embellish and adorn,
While for others there’s deception
Waiting in a hidden thorn.
Though there’s sun and rain and shelter,
Nature doesn’t really care
If each seedling has an equal shot,
For life just isn’t fair.
No one chooses to have their soul in chains
No one chooses to have ignored pains
No one chooses to be ignored
No one chooses to be abhorred
No one chooses to feel completely lost
No one chooses to feel defeats; exhaust
No one chooses to give devotion
Perish the thought of given notion
Written: October 22, 2023,
______________________________
Slight-shaped stygian sign swung in fiendish award
Witchy mage threw itchy gunpowder and abhorred
At school I abhorred poetry
A poet I NEVER would be
But life dealt us a cruel blow
Hubby’s tests soon were to show
CANCER
Cancer is such a cruel disease
Since then life’s not been a breeze
When he faced the surgeon’s knife
It dramatically changed my whole life
WRITING
T’was the first time I picked up my pen
Over three thousand poems since then
Covid lockdown came so I undertook
My dreams to work on my first book
CREATING
366 poems, one for each day of the year
Only a fool like me would have the idea
The idea is finally coming to fruition
My editor’s superb, a creative magician
PUBLISHING
Dreams to publish at last will come true
Once editing and artwork are through
Then I’ll self publish my very first book
Silly poems, I hope you’ll take a look!
Dreaming Poetry Contest
06/10/23
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