It feels like fibers.
One type of earth.
And another.
The sturdy feeling that most people have?
That’s just their assumptions.
We all have alternate versions.
Maybe alive.
Having a lot of universes is a luxury.
I can melt away a few times like old algae.
And still.
I decide to bop around in the next nothing over.
Uninhabited planets.
Maybe earth took me to its core after all.
Harmony is a quiet moment.
I close my eyes finding my haven.
Peace is always within reach.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2026
Serpent venomous, strike the breast.
Lay me low and leave.
Treasure found inside a chest?
Nightshade to bereave.
Sickle of the reaper grim?
Crater cauldron rim.
Pain in my heart, at the brim?
Light in my eyes, dim?
Slim thy chance, O circumstance.
Demagogue, thy rants.
Fortress mighty, stubborn stance?
Tympani, tyrants.
Destroyed, O sweet future?
You bet, and reason thus:
Stitch, support the suture?
Ornery damned, my cuss.
Poison-flower, trumpets high?
Apothecary, ply.
Deadly chemicals, make supply?
Ointment, have thy fly.
Cry of battle? Battlement.
Hope, thy sentiment.
Gears a-ground down? Where she went?
Said just what she meant?
Fluxion, thy flicker.
Axion, axe to wheel.
Sullen silence? Get sicker.
Wound, heal. Deal, sign seal.
Torn, O my tornado?
The options are but two.
Sell thy soul to vicious foe?
Be with who loves you...
D-ays
A-nd
N-ights
I-n
E-very
L-ife
A-re
T-reasured
A-llowing
B-oth
L-egitimate
A-tmospheres
T-o
E-ven
©bfa050125
Monocrostic (Birthday of Daniela Tablate)
The women sing songs to the moon,
Praising its beauty.
They dance and sing when it’s in its full glow,
Their souls ascending and descending,
Transformed into priestesses.
The men venture into the forest at twilight every fortnight.
There, an unveiling and a revealing take place.
The spirits commune with them in the tranquil ambience,
Warning them about any impending danger,
Sharing mysteries that are soon to enter their territory.
The men become gifted watchmen.
Something astonishing happens with the sun.
At midday, it beams its rays on a vast meadow,
Where the plants are exuberantly green.
These are called the Blessed Bloom,
An elixir of vitality and rejuvenation.
The atmosphere is clean and fresh.
There is no conflict between humans and machines,
No exploitation of nature,
No encroaching on her space.
The leash has not taken the lead.
I asked to know where I am,
And I met a stranger who looked familiar.
He said I’m in an unsoiled place,
An unaltered place,
An alternate universe.
April 8, 2025.
(“Still Life”, 2021, original encaustic)
Alternate Lives
Time appears to go in a line
From then to now
And some times it does
But at a certain point the stream
Becomes a river
Which then spreads into a delta.
I’ve always found the metaphors
Of literal geography to be the best,
And in this life can see the threads
Of alternate lives play out
All the what ifs
We’ll never really know.
What if my first wife and I had children
Instead of abortions?
I’m sure we would have stayed together,
And my daughter by the next wife would not be,
At least not who she is to me now.
And what of my life with wife number three?
Certainly that would not be.
And in the alternate beings and not beings
I would not have done all the things
I have done to make me me
And the same for everyone else touched
And moved and divided by the flow of time.
A flow that sometimes seems insignificant
Until it clearly isn’t
And the parting is complete,
Until it isn’t, and some kind of unity,
A whole greater than the parts
Is realized again.
(3/26/25)
Sadly, I was never blessed with having children. About 30 years ago I dreamed that my husband (now late husband) and I had twin girls, red-haired girls (my husband had red hair). Those girls were so real to me I named them: Chetta Marlene and Judith Rae Leann. I named them after family members.
I read that some scientists think there are many alternate or parallel universes existing next to ours. These universes are like ours but have differences, such as George Washington was never president or the USA built a colony on the moon.
If a parallel universe exists perhaps my daughters are there living a complete and fulfilling life. Perhaps they now have children. Perhaps my alternate self is there enjoying both my daughters and my grandchildren.
in a world i cannot see
children play and i close my eyes
* to sleep perchance to dream
*Shakespeare
The only reason to tune into mainstream media news,
is to see the corporate network's biased point of view.
I wonder if I did not stay,
What paths my life would gently sway.
Would destiny unfold anew,
Or fade like whispers that I once knew?
In the realm of infinite chance,
Would joy still dance its blissful dance?
Or would regret with mournful sigh,
Embrace my heart beneath the sky?
The road untraveled tempts my mind,
With secrets hidden, left behind.
Yet, in this place where I remain,
A tapestry of memories reign.
For in the choice to stay or roam,
We shape the life we call our own.
So, as I ponder what could be,
I find contentment, here, with me.
ALTERNATE PATHS 11/11/ 21
BY LYDIA BRESCIA
My eyes are leaking out the sorrow of a pain
deep within. Letting go of a passion boldly waved
before me like a matador teasing a bull.
It was a Probable reality rich with satisfaction
and Value Fulfillment trying to actualize
with Not Enough Fuel....
offering a glimpse of untold Joy mixed with Lessons.
Not chosen-an empty Pathway leading to some
Other reality, not mine!
That one was for someone else to try!
Then Hope opened another doorway
leading to some other reality an
even more Joyful probability...
This one ready to come into being!
This one, Ahhh.... includes all that's needed
to surpass the joys and pleasures and passions
even glimpsed in the un-created path!
These Lessons were learned with
Fun and abundance!
This alternate path has a Door
to the Universe Within! <3
LGB 2021
around
And Around
Convergence news chirality
Convenient use hue rainbow chronology carnality
Fast tracks flashbacks
New convergent reality
Hypocritical political
Around and around
Tangent stanger truth is not fiction
Again realities convictions
Fantasies detention
Why does my spirit soul are mine so hurt?
Reason I'm in a alternate universe
Here on this filthy Earth
Feel like I'm on a Ferris wheel of Life
No lie, goodbye?
6/18/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
What if the Rubix cube was round?
Would everything lost be found?
Maybe Boris Johnson wouldn't be head,
three cheers for Mary Berry as pm instead.
Would we have ever left the EU?
Say 'bygone' to the Dover/Calais queue.
COVID may never have shown its ugly face,
and bankrupt every marketplace.
We'd greet one another with a grin and hug,
not a distant wave or a faraway shrug.
Perhaps daytime tv would be on local life,
not murder, illness, earthquakes and strife.
Historic figures could come back to life,
and lay down every weapon and knife.
Each eager to make peace, do right,
knowing full well war only starts a fight.
Where everyone has everything they need,
all injustice gone, every civilian freed.
Where hope becomes tangible,
each language understandable.
Dreams become reality,
regardless of nationality.
Where love drives every action,
and brings everlasting satisfaction.
04/03/2021
Lift a baby from water, after decending from the cloud
An alternate way to start the world, the vision makes me proud
She could be the first earth mother, the start of all mankind
The greatest person ever lived, would need an open mind
I place her down upon the bank, there to see her grow
To take her place in legend, no seeds of doubt to sow
I guard her with the power I have, to see her to adult
Implant her with a virgin child, wait for the result
I plant for her a garden, where the two of them may play
Fill it full of bounty, give fresh water they can spray
But there is something missing, in the scheme of things to come
One a hubby, one a dad, I will combine them into one
I will go back to the water, see if another there
Cast my vision back and forth, end with a vacant stare
Change my gaze up to the beach, and spy a coconut
Could be just the thing I need, to use for head or butt
I took the finished model, so the Mum could give her view
She looked so happy that I thought, I should maybe make her two
That is how the human race, started on this earth
I am sure that's how it happened, for what my opinion's worth
Today someone praised a poem I wrote
It is about considering the disenfranchised
at this supposedly jolly time of year
Why, she said, just think about all in need,
why not spend Christmas with them, she asked
Amazingly enough, that is just what I do,
For you see I am one of the poor and disabled
whose SSD checks just do not stretch to month's end
All who live in my building experience much the same,
depending on food boxes and the generosity of others
We come in all types and sorts, full of warts and woes
Mental illness has felled a number of us terribly
They closed the hospitals and mental facilities
Just can't afford them, government says, so out
they were tossed roam the streets, incapable and lost
Poor choices plagued many tender, women who loved,
or thought they did, men who beat and burned them,
took their money and left them ill and unable to fight
Years of abuse, wisdom awakened, years more to heal
to even a bare minimum of capability to survive
So, dear tender lady, with heart of gold, trust when I say
I live with the broken and poor and lonely each day
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