Kate: "shall not, so sorry, these fickle few are not a flurry of blurry forms, they art and science like dogs turned wolfish then mourn."
Lucifer: "Instead, let feathers begin the bedtime songs, these others accrued have gone terribly wrong."
Zeus: " I don't believe I have the time, to play that instrument like "catcher in the rye" I have though too many half steps onward still the haunting glow, the louder trill."
Lucifer: "In step with the devil dog, the hellhounds of march release ides aflurry and we sent through the arch, a mcgolden apple that pied that sky, and asked for new curtains to blot out a liar."
Zeus: "Have that too, we can't hide all the gold and silver in a mountainous shoe, those slurs are forlorn, their jokes are depressed, they haven't new schools to teach them any better."
Lucifer: "Is it a liar, isn't it born of fire, how does the ode to that compare to the fires?"
---End of act V---
Animals are nutritive friendly foes.
They are by God's authority subdued.
They have been source of unexpected woes,
When no proper active measure accrued.
Of them, we find rich foods flavored enough
To bless our darling demanding stomachs.
But as time passes by, hunting gets tough,
As feral soldiers keep tight their barracks.
For games, you also search for survival
Through worthwhile charms; cage wild game like capon.
Be careful, you: also versa rival.
Loose guard and turn the game animals feed on.
Hunting is a commemorative job,
Beyond fresh fleshy games to feed your gob.
Opens as an invite
And multihued
Soft, for whom heard, speak low
Spring had accrued.
The single-minded bee.
That seriously!
Now wider, with a more
Impassioned fuss
For whom heard not, Spring too
Has massed. O'erplus!
One-hearted butterfly.
That smoothly sly!
His currency was empty promises.
He doled them out like no tomorrow.
Meanwhile mountain of debt accrued.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
As seasons come and seasons go,
the leaves will fall and skies will snow.
With gentle rains, leaves re-appear;
then summer sun…another year.
And as the seasons come and go,
the years march by, age starts to show.
And as we age, we seek the truth,
and in the Autumn, long for youth.
As seasons come and seasons go
we reassess the things we know,
and reminisce of moments past
and all our memories amassed.
And as the seasons turn once more
we find new paths, new dreams in store.
Though winter chills, the heart still sings
for every end foretells a spring.
And as each season blooms anew
we treasure moments we’ve accrued;
we hold our grandkids to our breast
and thank the Lord, for we’ve been blessed.
December 11, 2025
Poem of the Day - December 12, 2025
Unkind thoughts and deeds tallied
Demerit points implicitly accrued throughout a lifetime
Belated guilt at heaven’s gate
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
In what galaxy does a heart
not learn lessons the hard way?
It’s in the nature of all creatures.
The school of life welcomes its students.
Some will breeze on by and
not learn much of anything.
The ones that embark implicitly
on that lush wild river of discovery
will be amazed when they unleash their potential.
Everyone is given the same amount of hours,
precious time to squander or exploit;
checks and balances accrued in bank book.
Here on earth promises are delivered,
bruises fade and broken bones are mended,
fear eclipsed and IOU's paid and erased.
Everyone carries about their baggage:
the outcome of their experience,
the detailed records in their head.
We each have our predestined portfolio,
an agenda or checklist of things to learn,
be they tender or wickedly cold and harsh.
It would be ridiculous to expect that life is fair:
it’s a lottery we are allotted numbers,
some are lucky while others feel their curse.
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2025
PRAISING ANCHORED INVESTED POETIC TIME
(Apropos Of My Brilliant Poetry Extended Family)
Sitting there with quiet waves
Of a full wrinkling oceanic mind,
Smooth pensive allegorical thoughts
Flow to a self waiting thirsty anchoring
To buoy and deeply deposit and bank
Until their pregnant birthing interest
Has accrued and their pen established:-
Meanwhile, be blessed assured, that time
Invested in these waving words, quietly flowing
To soon wet the shores of welcoming desired minds,
Has not been an evaporated waste of watering time:-
No, what has accrued, is deemed to be
The impregnated frothing inspirations from
The wise watered-waving womb of our mind’s
Flowing poetic ocean of awareness, peace, and love:-
So, come on now–sailing poets–anchor up!
Set sails and get swelling awareness streaming!
Those here on distant shores are anxiously
Awaiting our fueling, frothing inspiration:-
At night, death's dark whisper resounds
Chasing dreams, with bloody sweat unbound
Awakened by fear, his heart does pound
Beholding death's spirit, all around
By day, sleep flees, a rare reprieve
For he has slain it, with restless grief
A little slumber, a shout of doom
Forever haunted, a troubled tomb
Through "Baba Gbonka's" dark, deceitful gate
He sought wealth's shortcut, a fatal weight
Riches accrued, but health did flee
Mansions built, yet comfortless, he'll be
Luxury furniture, a hollow pride
Restricted to a mat, where he must reside
Strangers receive his charitable hand
But relatives, a forbidden land
Conditioned to spend, with daily strife
No peace, until his target meets life
Marriage yes, but children, a denied bliss
What's affluence without peace, but an empty kiss?
Who shall inherit all his earthly gain?
To what account, when his soul's laid to rest in pain?
The scripture says, "Godliness with contentment's the gain"
A truth he forgot, in wealth's vain, hallow reign
Battered and bruised,
By the way I've abused,
This body that i used.
Feeling the effects of my mood,
Directly related to my attitude.
I'm losing altitude,
Calling out to you,
Knowing you come through,
I grab onto Gratitude.
Changing my latitude,
Thankful to collude,
Enhance my mental aptitude,
Rise above the solitude,
While in servitude to the multitude,
Of substances i have abused.
I'm becoming confused,
My mind unglued,
Clinging to gratitude,
I brighten my mood.
Thankful for lessons accrued,
Thankful for interests,
I was able to pursue,
Thankful for this journey,
I have renewed,
A new life viewed,
Through an Attitude of Gratitude.
What price must we pay,
To simply be?
The toll for existence,
Incurs a fee.
Each breath we take,
Each step we make,
Extracts a cost,
A price we must pay.
We pay for food, water,
For all resources consumed,
For heat, power, light,
For each a debt is accrued.
We were born completely free,
But, when we opened ours eyes.
It was the toll of debt,
We saw in the skies.
Why does it have to be?
In the material world,
Its entropy's fee, we must fight
To stave off decay.
For as heterotrophs
We must consume the structure
Of plants and animals
To maintain our structure.
Oh, to be a plant
To live cost-free,
As an autotroph
Bathing free, in the sunlight.
The cost living
Is the price we all pay,
The toll to exist,
Our destiny.
A tall, chain wire fence
surrounds the perimeter
of the power station, casting
its evening shadow over a wide
bank of grass leading down
to the river. Sometimes I sit there
just to listen to the sound
of the wind make music through
the wires.
It is a soft, melancholy music
that carries a certain sorrow.
Uncoupled from a name,
it seems a composite
of the sadness accrued
in the wordless wells of the soul
that finds voice here.
It has a strange attraction,
an addictive beauty
which keeps me coming back
though each note strums
a nerve giving a little hurt.
At times I can almost hear
human voices weaved
into the music, a tone
echoing out of places
made restless with longing.
It is the music that lovers make
and gently plays at the center
of all good art, sad prisoners
of time, composed by the heart
to mourn when what is loved
and what is beautiful in this life
passes from us,
and let go.
My heart is shaped like a love heart
With different compartments inside
The largest compartment being LOVE
Centre stage and always my guide
KINDNESS is another compartment
For of acts of kindness bestowed
Valued and forever remembered
Accrued along my life’s road
HUMOUR has a compartment
I consider it my hearts fuel
Laughter, fun and good times
For entry is the golden rule
MEMORIES sweet and precious
Has a compartment of its own
Abundant with optimal happiness
Mine and mine alone
SADNESS unfortunately is a compartment
Containing disappointment, loss and bereft
Yet in there is also appreciation
For having had the gift of the ones who have left
Down the bottom of my love shaped heart
Is MINDFUL the smallest compartment in there
Containing hurt and wrong doings
An ongoing reminder to be aware
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
I'm drawn to this bouquet; I am left so madly.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
Happiest are these thoughts deliberately construed.
Winter taking them from my core destroys me, sadly.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
Purple pillars of violently swaying happiness imbue
So I harvest them as fast as I can, enjoying them gladly.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
After such a long time between blossoms, histories accrued.
I waited patiently for their replacement, so very badly.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
I felt the truest of forlorn, nearly left lifelessly blued.
Springtime rain brought them back to my welcoming hands, comradely.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
Once I found eyes on them, new happiness did exude.
Replenishing their hearts energy regrown in me
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed
In lives past, a silent rue,
Whispers dance, déjà vu.
Familiar paths, memories accrued,
Time's echo is a mystic brew.
Past and present entwined, anew.
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