I know Nothing, and I know it well;
and that ensures that my head doesn't swell.
Nothing is nothing to gripe about,
suppressing any desire to shout.
Nothing is the stuff of sleepless nights;
it's like a deer caught in the headlights.
Nothing has no heft or feel to it:
the legacy of a hypocrite.
Nothing, sometimes, is all you have left;
loss of innocence is a slow theft.
Nothing isn't easily washed away,
even by the tears wept every day.
Nothing is frightening to confront,
like an empty gesture or affront.
Nothing can obscure your path to love;
it forces your heart to rise above.
Beneath my favorite tree,
I asked the wind to carry me
to lands across the sea.
In time, my friend, the wind, complied
and took me to the world's other side,
where I gladly lived until I died.
In between those two events,
I lived in palaces and tents,
as an affront to common sense.
with bliss at forefront
we take no affront
at barbs, jibes and taunts
of ego that flaunts
light in each node etched
our hand is outstretched
impulsed by heart thawed
as servant of God
betwixt bliss beat’s chime
we lose sense of time
dwelling in the pause
in sync with God’s laws
Going nowhere in circles,
at 0.9 km/h with no stops in-between,
32 numbered capsules,
except (superstitiously) 'unlucky' thirteen.
George Ferris is the name
of the man to be cursed,
for it's he who's to blame,
as his was the first.
On the skyline, towering over the town,
the city's pageantry and history,
a blot, a blemish built, an affront to the Crown,
an as yet unsolved mystery,
as to why, despoiling the view,
and to underscore that which I deplore,
England's most popular tourist attraction,
is now the London Eyesore!
In the space a forgotten person is left to entertain
The remainder of civilization has been acquired
The unfinished civilized area per "your" affront, complaint, insult
Inflammatory remarks is creation of code
Creating colony
Demanding colonization by war
The financial crimes which capture attention are all in time.
Havings leavings
Feelings frustrated
Poor troddings while wasting into the poor shallows?
Allowed to do so.
Beneficial beginning from behind.
Avoid all affronts
Immediate rights?
Separation from extreme exposure
The writers block of monetary syndrome survivors
The elements for one
The news arriving on earth
In the way the news was arriving
No obstacles?
Really?
Greetings!
Thank you so much for submitting your letter to The Washington Post.
Portion control included, have fun?
History allows one the Japanese quartermaster position
The dilapidated building wavers the hindsight
In a single city
Hidden conformity owns?
A previous creation of economy
Current currency in ink creates no mad article
One must adhere in the thick heat while justice witnesses change
The current volume of water "allowed" from water station
From station to station the ear is clipped in interest if reported earnings.
In this fashion panic has created itself a source of retired journal timing.
Cycle of labor markets itself
Not a new nor another
Speak easy
Speak easiest
Differing reason in seasonal appearance
In the space a forgotten person is left to entertain
The remainder of civilization has been acquired
The unfinished civilized area per "your" affront, complaint, insult
Inflammatory remarks is creation of code
Creating colony
Demanding colonization by war
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Status code: 550 5.7.1_ETR
Codified routing policy organization chart
Competent exam
Silence before a kiss expected, is no surprise.
It whispers echoed promises, foretold in eyes.
Put on hold, until two hearts come closer together.
Face-to-face, breath in breath, fragile as feather.
A silent unforeseen kiss, can delight or betray.
Depending on intention, in the light of day.
An affront, a bewilderment; eyes know it is coming.
A blessing or a curse, so bitter, and unbecoming.
Forewarned wary eyes recoil, and refuse to see.
The head turns away gently, straining to flee.
A step aside or back, retreating out of range.
Deflecting touch, before longing turns strange.
Kisses, expected and unexpected, both inflame,
Desire with the outcome ensnared within the game.
The yard sale was great.
Sold everything in my place.
Now to start over new.
Influencers tell me what to do.
Have a need for food, shelter, and clothes.
They say that's not the way to go.
Buy products online,
Thats cheap and refined.
Use a credit card,
Get whatever you want.
Paying the bill is just an affront,
Go to thrift stores for a better jump.
What you want and need,
May be different indeed.
I can't fry my eye lashes to eat,
Hair products can't keep me warm.
Tattoos won't make a room for you.
No place to keep all my stuff that was cheap,
Live in a car with no place to sleep!
Selfish aims in kindness-guise… I dare to confront
As my soul welcomes challenges with hope
Triumphantly while thankful spirit does cope
Surmounting trials of grievous affront.
Targets midst secret deals… I strive to check
As my heart submits to divine truth’s worth
Exposing transgressions against fake mirth
Repenting for pardon that conquers wreck.
Carnal goals with their deceit… I ought to face
As my mind is illumined by God’s light
With assured vision for heavenly flight
Toward courage to walk tall, blest with grace.
Motives reflecting shame… I need to see
As my faith learns to perceive genuine glow
Against hypocrisy, pride of false show
Living in wondrous love with freedom glee.
Intents lurking as ghosts… I must not fear
As my Lord assures His presence of peace*
Governed by great wisdom that cannot cease
Securing me while others gladly cheer.
*Philippians 4:7 - And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
July 8, 2025
Honorable Mention, "1404" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 8/20/2025
Whether the Indigenous People,
robed in leathers, head dressed in feathers,
who had their own sovereign nations,
wanted it or not,
June 2nd 1924,
U.S. President Calvin Coolidge
condescendingly signed the Snyder Act,
a.k.a., the Indian Citizenship Act, into law,
thereby conferring American citizenship
on American Indians.
He had it backwards,
it was no more than an affront
as, whether the Indigenous People
wanted them or not,
it was American Indians who,
altho' they made no claim to own Mother Earth,
should have conferred American citizenship
on the Paleface People,
who were mere trespassers on tribal territory.
And Woody Guthrie
(1912 – 1967),
another white man,
was not referring
to Native Americans
when he wrote,
'This land is your land.'
Why Poetry? she muses, sat in front
of paper, staring blankly, lifelessly
at her image.— and really…, who is she
to ask the page—in a manner so blunt—
to shoulder her excesses? such a stunt
surely exceeds the bounds of decency;
Soliciting a perfect effigy,
she risks paying her Muses high affront.—
Still, she dares,—and dares she bold and willing
to strike strokes of black ink upon the white
mirror challenging her to forgive—
And here goes flying, now there goes spilling
the blood of Artistry,—and Spite,—and Might,!
Why Poetry?—or, better yet, why live?
Harshly treated at 'so called' court.. whose only scales
Are visual.' In pure truth' such ruling is naught..No precedent of goodlaw given .' The judge surely needs to
Be forgiven.' Such blatent an affront the health and life, in
A country with indiginous; aging entrenched; its truly most rife'
This is un-fair, un-balanced and conspiricy in act, i see it was
All pre-meditated, in the whole proceedure; observing only the facts.'
It is a pitiful display
To belong where you don’t belong
Wanting to rule a former day
A worn out tune of a love song
No longer loved by the crowd
Down with the old King, so long!
The blizzard’s countenance proud
in the Kingdom of the Warm Front
Is quashed by the thundercloud
The waning moon takes affront
As sunbeams begin to amass
All victors leave the battlefront
Popular sentiments pass
Like a crying hourglass
Secrets ...
callous on your heart
stone around your neck
cellar of respite
weight upon your soul
Deception ...
bane upon your conscience
affront to voices hiding
sire of excuses
— truth behind the mask
(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
long way home
Evening transit murderous
slowing down to a standstill
I'm a part of a long necklace
fascinating colors, a circus is
coming to town
A sea-gull in peeked cap
knocks on the window
tells me to carry on, too soon
awake as a Bengalian tiger
crossing a bridge that will
collapse, if not today, but
some rotten day
A thousand cars in the drink
the injustice of this thrown
together grasping at straws
The falling rain is an affront
water has planned this
A café, ahead, drink coffee
Crying windows, I have no
words of comfort whipped
tears away, glorious was
the evening
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