Now I see you,
Your true form unveiled.
A part of me,
Corrupted.
As old as I,
You were always there.
A growing sensation in me,
Awakened by my growing body.
You gave me no love,
Only lust and longing.
This I know now,
Before I was blind.
I've got you in my clutches now,
And though you struggle,
Clawing at me,
I know I can't let go.
It's for the best.
This pain is temporary,
Less than you've inflicted before,
I was just under your spell.
Soon this will pass,
And we may rest.
On the other side of suffering,
We will heal again, changed.
Restrained by my own hand,
I stagnate, going grey.
Through fingers, like sand,
Time slips away.
What could have been,
Never happened.
Now there is nothing,
I am alone.
You're my addiction,
fuel for my affliction.
I can't forget you,
I can't resist you.
Even though I hate you,
Everyday I miss you.
Rebellion at the fingertips...
Is every Mao-suited Chinese man a wannabe beatnik?
Even the anti-hero unknowingly conforms to a borrowed script
succoured by allure.
Exhaled ethereal silver circles of thought,
while plotting...
Ritual rhythms at the Café de Flore,
stillness and motion in retro contrast.
A cowboy in cool contemplation
draws deep,
leaving footprints in the dust.
DANCING BLIND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DANCE FLOOR
Bare footed on old linoleum floor
Tapestry music engage my ears (I hear the distance)
I see not but I’m placement mid-center
Of a space placed vivid vibrations flairs (I feel the emptiness)
I slowly spin around, I move to the music
Even in the darkness I’ve rhythm (I smell the panoramic)
My naked feet hear and feels the beat sweet
I can see n mine spirit I dance with the light
(I taste the air, I’ve inhaled, I sense the people stare) {I DANCE}
As my naked feet, legs, tortoise whole body sprite
moves as lighting-bugs in the night
Centered in movement dance steps bright
ViBrAtiOnS feels my steps are not sight
Dancing Without Sight
9/16/26
For Dancing Blind Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
2026©
did you see it?
good luck to you
take a sound recording of the gurgling under the kitchen sink
if you play that backwards you will find
it is an interpretation of an inversion
play it back and forth
it's actually Beethoven's 5th.
like Smoke on the Water
in an encouraging interview, the guitar player
was both humble and forthcoming
my son in his music lessons
will listen to samples of classical music
selected by the teacher
i've encouraged him to ask as the piece ends
to raise his hand and say,
'now play that backwards.'
They say energy never dies
but never said it'd stay for the entire ride
hand in hand, losing their minds
Even in the darkness
there's nowhere to hide
thought that when their worlds decided to collide
the pain would finally subside
Did they ever really try?
or did they just shut down inside?
countless excruciating tears they've cried
yet still numb
from losing so many loved ones that died...
time after time after time
consuming lust filled emotions
had them drowning in eachother's souls
but fears fueled the endless lies
that their bruised egos told
slowly making their hearts turn cold
so unaware of the true dimension
they belonged in
a place they created together
as their souls continued
intertwining & binding
defining forever
manifested their own demons
trying to protect themselves
from expected cruel intentions
boy, were they relentless
made nothing but a huge mess of this
love & desire
mixed with fear & anger
created an unextinguishable fire
adding fuel to the flames
whenever he was inside her
one anothers new drug
they couldn't get any higher
The last leg of the fight
The final round of quitting
How quaint to say the final quit
How ironic I must sprint to stop
Years of wildling down and retrying
Years of saying this time is different
However, this difference has a difference
However inane, God delivered a new purpose
Truly every round was different
Truly these chains became rope
Today I cut that rope
Today I free myself
The finale sadly doesn’t exist
The finale is never being out of the fight
I will walk tomorrow and the next day lighter
I will always stay at war but it will be just an amber
The gambling apps are scary,
Though they don’t tempt me a bit,
For the ones who should be wary
Are the ones who’ll take a hit.
Just like every addiction,
There’s an obvious appeal,
But a gambling affliction
Is the worst kind of raw deal.
Those who really can’t afford it
Are lured in because the odds
Bring them one step closer toward it,
Feeling up there with the gods.
What once worked for only races –
Horses, greyhounds, cars that drag,
Now is found in many places,
Waiting for some saps to snag.
Who will score more in a ball game?
Who’ll be leading in the polls?
What will be the Royal babe’s name?
Who will land the leading roles?
Though it’s bad enough when older
Folks are drawn to such a con,
Younger people, sometimes bolder,
May find all their dreams are gone.
Remembering love, like yesterday's adventure
When passion was warm, stamina strong
Heart felt desire of its wants burn
Skin dripping enough make you wet
Excitement indulging need for love, oil
glistening off skin
Feel me; deep inside your curves I play
Fingers caressing beauty's cry, salt
taste upon lips
Tongues entangled, squeeze held tightly intense
Grasp of hair, pull me in deeper
Just wanting to crawl inside your depths
Soft tones whispering the flickering light
Night air, whisper of wind across heated body's
Sensuality, you can smell scent about air
Pleasures of love we once knew back when
Remembering love, hard and soft but two
hearts beating same
We swear the dormant ember had gone cold to touch,
iron-bolted the cellar where the devil feeds.
Yet, remembrance lingers like a toxicant in the bone,
muted throes awaiting in the unlit corridors.
We chant for nevermore with fragile, desperate pride,
falsely believing distance kills the primal craving.
When the hurricane breaks, the old familiar desire entreats,
proving that obsession was merely asleep, not deceased.
For I am a feral beast, wired to thrive on agony,
a creature carved from ruin, which no time can repair.
Main tod leti agar tu gulab hota ??
Main arpan kar deti khudko ,
aagar tu mera hota ??
Jo sath rehena ka wada kiya tha tune, kash woh nibha diya hota??
Kash woh sache pyar ka dekha ,
thoda oor kar diya hota ?
Tera jane ke baad jo tu aapne yaad chod gaya ,
kash woh aapne sath le gaya hota ??
Aagar us din tu mujhe yu chhodke na gaya hota,
toh aaj mera hat tera hato main hota??
Aaj bhi aagar koi tujh jesa dekh jata hai mujhe ,
toh may sochti hu ki kash woh tu hota ??
Main aaj bhi tera galat shikwe bhula du
aagar tu mera pass wapas aaya hota ??
MOTHERS LIFELINE
They think I'm taking it well, but the truth is it hurts.
How many times will I grieve you? This isn't even the first.
You spent years on life support. My voice was the plug.
Every day, I spent screaming over you, trying to wake you up.
You thought I was mad? I'd just had enough.
But it was never anger. It was passionate love,
from a daughter who didn't want to give you up.
This grief they feel, I've felt for most of my life.
So I just thank God, you were sober when you died.
— Kristen Roddy (brooke), Aug 08, 2026
I once said never, sure I’d outrun the weight that shaped my mother’s obese life;
yet, like Mother, food was my Calypso, it held me close, sirens singing songs of self-loathing.
at twenty-eight, I drifted far from home, three hundred pounds from who I’d been.
I faced the mirror like Odysseus sighting Ithaca after years of uncertainty,
and I confronted ego, my one-eyed Cyclops, whose glare kept me from seeing my truth.
the journey home meant leaving behind habits, islands where I’d lingered too long~
never say never echoed like Odysseus’ vow to crewmen convinced they’d never return.
I learned the body’s architecture can change when faith and courage steady life's helm again.
for forty years I’ve lived within the home I reclaimed, its walls earned and steady.
never say never means trusting the heart to navigate storms and still reach shore.
If I were a cat
I’d scratch this and that
To me it wouldn’t matter
I’d pee on the floor
Chip paint off the door
Maybe jump on the counter
I act like a cat
Thinking this and that
But actions always matter
So now I’m a man
I sit with my sham
And I begin to shatter
Because I can see
It always was she
Left crying, dying, after
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