At this stage of life,a lot I have learned
From the experiences,that I have gained
Believe in yourself, believe in God
He is the Savior, he is the Lord
Never be impatient, never lose hope
There is always a way for opportunities and scope
Hardwork and strong determination
Will help you achieve your passion
Have patience, never grumble
A lot of courage, you need to assemble
A slow and steady ,is never a failure
Success comes to one,who is a true believer
Wait for your turn, play your part
You will rise,in the sky,you will dart
The feeling after success is so great
The happiness is priceless, no one can rate
Be always there to support and encourage
Quit the path,leading to outrage...
At this stage in world history...Are the past acts of demonic ritual events still being debated as relevent
to causing detriment to humanity.? Was it harder to be obedient God of the Holy Bible.? Or see and know what we see and hear of in the twenty first
Century.? Do we embrace such.? Depravity upon depravity..Obscene teachings in schools and in media sources that have medium overseers.' How does it work? Whrn the Creator is relegated to a figure of
Myth.' And we do not reach for renewal.'
You're just an overgrown adolescent
who doesn't plan on becoming an adult.
Do you understand that at this stage
I don't care who's right or wrong.
You've been walking on thin ice and
pushing your luck's not a great idea.
Do you even have a master plan?
Or a semblance of an end game?
I just shake my head.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Here we are at the lunatic age..That cavorts upon
Its tempoal stage.. twenty first
birthday foolishness.Is manifest; in chronalogical millenial immoral
Guise..In which none confess. All the tools of betterment, are used by fools.' We bask in blue light luminous, chaos rules.'
Read truth and lies, both day and night
Reality now is (a state..) Ungoverned lawfully its
Awfull.. Often wickedly driven.' The cliff is looming..' and below the abyss ' kiss the Son before the final'e, Choose His Eternal bliss '
Oh, to be given the special chance
to rewrite history with but a glance
So many things in so many ways
So many words to simply un say
But, above all, I would like to give
My mother the days she couldn't live
The flu stole her when I was but two
She was someone I so wish I knew
She missed many hugs and so did I
I sent kisses to her in blue sky
Such a time she missed, Earth and I aged
she would hardly know us, at this stage
I'd love to find those moments for her
Show her what Earth now has to offer
The years added up, we'd need to find
Every hour she left behind.
Worst self-critic can be,
Navel-gazing, so like me,
Let bygones be gone,
Thoughts yammer on,
Guess it's not so bad,
Doormat is my fad,
People pleaser I can be,
No drama queen, you see,
On foibles, turn the page,
Think cosmic at this stage,
Being kind is the best,
Soldier on, then sit and rest,
Poet, handmaid and woman,
Being only one merely human.
As always, you won’t remember tomorrow. The words you spew without a care, that damage more than a bullet. He takes the verbal blows just like a pro boxer at this stage of the game called life, so used to being your personal punching bag. Yet there you are, drowning yourself in alcohol again and again. Maybe one day, that little boy inside will see he has more worth than being a personal punching bag and taking the verbal blows again and again.
You are more than his addiction.
You are worth respect.
I live my life through colours prime
through colours, colours, colours prime.
Can change their shades at any time
can change them as I age.
Beginning with the whitest page
the whitest, whitest, whitest page.
My youth was with me at this stage
my youth with colours bright.
The mix back then was blended right
was blended, blended, blended right.
These shades remained within my sight
These shades red, yellow, blue.
The years roll by, I'm ageing too
I'm ageing, ageing, ageing too.
My palette still remains on view
my palette never fades.
I live my life through colours prime
My palette never fades.
He weeps while carving out her form
From memories of long days past.
Their life was like a raging storm
In every weather, so steadfast.
Together they had spent their lives
Happy, carefree, no worries known.
He took her for his loving wife
She took him also for her own.
Entwined in love a sweet caress
His fingers found a lump one day.
T'was in her breast, so with distress
A visit to the doctor pay.
Bad news he said, the tests revealed
A cancer's grown, has spread around.
Her husband's shock was not concealed
No cure at this stage could be found.
In final days a sadness shared
They faced her death with heavy hearts.
He vowed to her as tears were shed
Upon her death they'd never part.
So, from a piece of marble stone
Her form so perfect in his mind.
Her beauty to the world was shown
This monument he'd leave behind.
This story happened years ago
She never left once she was formed.
For all who see her, they will know
Within her sculpture love transformed.
My son, I love very much, so strict with me,
No name or photo of my little gem, there be,
My granddaughter, two years, January first,
My pride, my love, heart to burst,
But what I heard made me say hee, hee, hee.
Christmas day we spent with the whole family,
Our bundle of joy dressed so very creatively,
An Elf in red, dressed by her mother,
Dressed in red also was another,
Her little cousin, only a year, looked a honey.
The dogs allowed in enjoying fallen food on the floor,
No begging allowed or out the door,
Her mummy said, Dudley, don’t dare *hit
All happy, laughed at her wit,
And our two-year-old sponge, also laughed galore.
Hearing all and talking well, ready to turn the page,
Giggled and entered the conversation at this stage,
Mummy says Dudley *hits,
We all collapsed into fits
Of laughter, a hilarious outburst at two years of age.
I wonder what it'll take to go full circle
and find my way back home with You?
Although I might be as slow as a turtle
Your love will guide me when I'm true.
I’ll finish up then as I began being a child of Yours
having knocked on so many of life’s secret doors.
But even though I've yet to find all the right answers
at this stage of my life there have been some advances.
My feelings towards You now seem to have changed
but this shouldn’t be a reason for us to feel estranged.
Love's a universal magnet that draws everything together
we shouldn’t mind passing through some stormy weather.
In a world of constant change there are many upheavals
but love often does get stronger when there are retrievals.
It’s something of a realization by which we come to know
that as love completes a full circle perfection it will show.
How long will it take to go full circle
to find my way back home with You?
It seems I'm just as slow as a turtle
but is Love guiding me and am I true?
__________________
An Empty Page- Free Verse
Empty thoughts loiter in his mind
As new words he tries to find
But shackled by an absent muse
No words come forth for him to choose
His wizened face now wears a frown
And the cartridge of his ink has dried
He searches the silence for a clue
But it fails to elicit a response
His mordacious muse now prefers
To leave him without a horde of words
To trifle with him at this stage
And leave him with an empty page
-----------------------------------------------
An Empty Page- Triolet
An empty page, a poet's woe
In panic mode as muse departs
The moon and stars have lost their glow
An empty page, a poet's woe
Thoughts come and go, no words to show
Just a line and a verse jumpstarts
An empty page, a poet's woe
In panic mode as muse departs
Not For Contest
..
I’m just quietly sitting watching
Through a younger man’s eyes.
You wouldn’t know if you looked
For my brain’s there in disguise.
It’s wearing the body of one
Who’s of a much greater age,
Trying to understand how
It arrived at this stage.
I’m my mind I’m much younger,
Twenty one or even twenty two,
But these days it’s not as easy
To do things I could once easily do.
My yesterday’s have outnumbered
The tomorrow’s there are to come,
But I’ve been so lucky I suppose,
I’ve lived much longer than some.
With old age there’s an acceptance,
Each breath is just one more on the way
To the completion of a journey that
Ends with that unavoidable dying day.
So, I’m sat here enjoying my coffee
As I’m watching the world go by
And I’ve made the adjustment to
See it through an older man’s eye.
I’ll be back here tomorrow
If that’s the way that it goes ,
It’s one of those thing in life
That nobody ever knows.
dusk settles on an Anglican Shrub
vespertine is downy down upon the vertical horizon
spring like frost is unraveling
toward a sunset on its late afternoon decline
at this stage of early-black twilight
a cygar shaped delirium is seeding
its exotic fragrance sweetly empowering
will linger until the crack of dawn
tenderly grown staked and supported
the poisonous angel scrumpet trumpets
a crepuscule's sundown into darknness
a pitch illumination begging to brighten
bathed in orange moire reflecting
by her petaled drowsiness unfurling
a day dream and a nightmare
time travel in tandem
lying dormant now in a trance
like flesh inside a nutshell
vespertine pulls away from early-bright
she's never this reflective in the sunlight
They stripped away my former self,
Reduced me to a mere shadow, for "maturity."
Before and after, I remained the same,
But different personas emerged, all in the name of "maturity."
No more colorful socks or shoes with playful straps,
I was told, "You're older now," by the voice of "maturity."
"Compose yourself," they said, "Your voice is too loud,
And your laughter is awkward," all due to "maturity."
"Look ahead, not behind," they advised,
"Your dreams are beautiful, but not for you,"
I was informed, at this stage called "maturity."
Before and after, I wondered, "Why?"
Same person, different facades, all attributed to "maturity."
Oh, "maturity," you've transformed me so,
But what's the path forward, I must know.
How to live within, not without,
How to embrace the truth, cast off doubt.
How to express, not withhold,
How to believe and feel, be bold.
How to return to the child within,
And learn, once again, to begin.
The fault, dear "maturity," lies not with me,
But with your heavy hand, you see.
Oh, "maturity," why change me so?
It's a question I'm left to ponder and mull over.
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