With blurred vision in my one eye,
on this cold winter afternoon
I trace the course of a blue-black fly
in my small kitchen. Pretty soon
my boredom gets the best of me.
Once I eat a macaroon
I rise to make some jasmine tea
and wonder why I allow this bug
(who does not share my philosophy)
to sit there resting on my mug.
I do not know what's in his head,
but think he must be awfully smug,
so I get up and leave. Instead
of drinking tea I go to bed.
Daily, God* grants me fulltime tasks to spend midst pastime bliss
Creating heaven-on-earth moments I will never miss---
Turning chaotic silence caused by doubt-driven trust
Into vibrant faith that smites honest lies along gladness-crust.
Facing attacks of ephemeral forever doom
My heart perseveres against pain of losing wins’ doom
Bouncing back from woes due to living dead stature
Smiting hellish paradise-angst toward green pasture's nurture.
Leaving cheerful pessimist attitude behind
I behold awfully pretty times as greatly designed
Along bittersweet memories with gratitude’s best
…That though sometimes I'm a wise fool, I always feel blest.
*2 Timothy 1:2 Grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
September 1, 2026
1st place, "Silent Letters and Oxymorons" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Natasha L Scragg; judged on 9/2/2026
He gave me a gift, terribly good-
but it was clearly misunderstood.
Good grief, what does it do?
looks pretty ugly too!
Like huge chunky goggles, there it stood.
Deafening silence came over me!
Seriously funny, for you see
this was his only choice?
For me there was no voice?
A cruel kindness- how can this be?
The sound of silence he broke with shout-
Falsely true is what this is about!
Awfully good, you see-
virtual reality!
Definite maybe, you will freak out!
Alone together, now bittersweet
our short minor crisis, we did meet!
In a true fiction world
open secrets unfurled!
These chunky goggles cannot be beat!
My empty glass is mocking me.
It laughs at my proclivity.
It led me here and knocked me down.
Another drink and I will drown.
They told me it would be such fun,
But now that it’s all said and done,
I see all that they did not say
As my heart led my head astray…
My empty wallet seems to cry.
The tab has left me high and dry.
I thought I had a little more
But I’ve so much less than before.
A victim of my overreach.
I’m just an old dog you can’t teach.
I fall back on familiar ways.
So, here I am ‘til end of days..
An empty heart, an aching head…
Just help me make it to my bed.
Please do not leave me where I lay;
My foolish choices on display.
They tell me anyone can change.
The ways of grace are awfully strange.
So, that’s what I’ll do come the dawn.
My promises go on and on…
Pick me up and take me home
I can’t make it on my own
I’m laid out upon the floor
I can’t make it to the door
I need a lift so call a ride
And maybe help me get outside
I am stuck here all alone
And I just want to make it home.
I just want to make it home.
The tiny giant
was independently reliant.
He was brutely handsome, such a pity
because she was awfully pretty.
The old news came in a deafening whisper.
She read it slowly and brisker.
He was a knight by day.
She left a bitter sweet note with joyful dismay.
Hand written on a typewriter.
Her heart was heavy and so much lighter.
He was riding at a slow speed
when he had a deliberate accident on his steed.
She let out a silent scream
when she saw the invisible scene.
It was on TV.
A live recording for all to see.
He swapped his horse for an ox
from the school of hard knocks.
The beast was dumb and much dafter.
Her knight died and they all lived happily ever after.
This is a true story all fiction to be sure on.
Now she has his OXY-MORON.
Many say their grandpa is Santa, but they are lying
Linda Lou realized her grandpa was Santa as he lay dying
I always thought this, she told him, what can I do?
Just pass the baton to the head elf, please Linda Lou.
The second the baton was placed in the elf’s capable hands
He transmogrified into Santa Claus and began traveling to outer lands
I need to memorize the geography during the day time he said
For at night, it is awfully dark after the children go to bed.
There in the corner of my room
I feel a strong sense of doom
With all lights out, the room is dark
My dog begins to bark!
Yet, I see a blinking light
Of a ghostly apparition in the night!
Clunk…Clunk…is the sound I hear
As the ghostly-being draws awfully near
The scent of the dead is somewhat odd
I spot its evil grin a I scramble for my rod!
It knows I see it and knows I’m there
Life flashes before me as I horridly stare
Right in the face of this ghostly-being
I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing!
Fear leaves its dreadful taste in my mouth and tongue
I can’t help but scream to the top of my lungs!
But, to my surprise
It winks and replies:
“Shhh! Not so loud, living corpse!
You’re going to go hoarse!
Just let me touch your mobile phone
You know, E.T. has to go phone home!”
The way her limbs twist, it leaves me in awe
Why, Julia, whoever taught you to tango?
Claim the roses were a mere friendly gift
But darling, we both know the ending of this chapter.
Those deep auburn eyes of yours create maps to salvation
The braids you put your crimson locks in, how intricate.
Fair and freckled like a Gaelic noblewoman
I'd be willing to die in the gallows if it meant loving you
Give me extra attention like pouring buckets of gasoline
Then light my world on fire with your match of a heart
Pour my kisses on your skin and peel them off real smooth
I wanna be the very center of your awfully toxic world
Family claims you're looking for a husband to unite with
So I'll cut my hair, tear up my dress, and trade my heels for boots!
Fight like a gladiator if they want to tear us up apart
I will be the strong yet caring man you have always begged for
Just lean in for the kiss already, my beautiful Juliana
If it means you'll set my wandering mind at ease.
There was writing in the tiny town, where two legged rats I'd reckon were going round..Selling out a true blue man, alone
And outnumbered, same..Same old plan.'
Maybe an ex-copper lived nearby.' Anyways
A rat , As known to you and I.' Or maybe a
Few.? Quite sad stuff.' Yet now the hue and cry.' And all because he wanted his rights? he had, confronted with reason, and the judge, well he was in a plight ' judge peter
dunn, a real strange one.' And his awfully
Un-lawful actions, and his courthouse based henchmen.' Dezie claimed arrest of the 'judge?' And his crew, who were breaking many laws, must be what they often do.? Officials anger and axiety now
Knew no bounds, before Dezi got his court
Date, to Porepunkah the henchmen, chased him down, ten armed coppers, he
Took out three..One just wounded
Yet Dezi killed the other two..So what with
The rats, and dummys of the people.' Cov-idiots, thats keeping it simple ' I ask for peace, i hear a trickle.? And the killing of Dezi.' No wonder i'm busy.' Searching and
Finding, and making aware.' True
people we need you, come step up
And out of despair.!
Always Silly
For those who matter,
For those who don't,
It comes on a platter,
But still they won't.
In dubious clarity
Often they sink,
Behind painted walls,
They smoke and drink.
Love never dies,
They love too well,
In beautiful lies,
They peacefully dwell.
A mythical poverty
Punishes with gifts,
Defining with pity,
They relish the rifts.
A nursery rhyme
Fools all with ease,
And leaves no time,
For us to cease.
A silly poet often,
Writes silly lines,
They awfully soften,
While the reader shines!
I thought of a great way to make money.
"Bee, what's your recipe to make honey?"
She said, "You can't raise that sum",
and stung me right on the bum,
and she thought it was awfully funny.
I said “you look pretty”,
The bold remarks made me choke
I said “it’s not funny”
But it wasn’t a joke
When we talk you say it softly,
I’ve never felt anything like it
Butterflies when I heard you breathe
But I love it when you’re awfully quiet
Sometimes all I think about is you,
Sleepless nights— you’ve had them too
You said I looked good in blue
Late nights in the middle of June
A lot can change in twenty seconds,
But we love being in the dark
It wasn’t recommended
It’s hard to stop it once it starts
This puppy love is out of line,
I never thought you’d be someone I miss
Didn’t control the helium this time
I guess I want you more than I thought I did
I wanna be alone,
Sun roof broken— what a mess
Arms I used to call home
Alone with you, does that make sense?
I don’t want to talk right now,
You tricked me
I just need to sit back down
I just want to watch TV
God I wish I was happy,
You gave me brown wilted leaves
I was foolish to believe
The fraying threads of recovery
I wish we never learned to fly,
Above the clouds, at least we tried
Broke the atmosphere, we flew so
high
It had been a sunny day,
but Mary wouldn't come out to play.
She was covered by a cloud
that wouldn't rain.
Was she in some kind of pain?
She could not explain,
and her head was bowed.
Outside, every little sprout,
soon withered in a drought,
and every bird
refused to sing,
or even to take wing.
There was no rain that Spring.
Not a sound was heard...
till Mary chased the the cloud outside
and pinched it until it cried
out so awfully loud -
with rain,
but while I can't explain,
the world is now glad again -
to see Mary and the cloud.
I awoke hoping for a golden day
I’m easily dazzled, I suppose.
But it’s cool and overcast in Paris.
They’re limiting the sunshine today
because of global warming.
How can global warming bring a thousand harms
if it can’t even cook a turkey?
I love this after-Christmas week.
The crowded activities and Hallmark card events are over
but we still have the sunny moods and infectious vibes
(and no classwork).
My parents flew in last night.
It’s a holiday miracle.
What’s better than running into your mother’s arms
for a, “Mom-MEEEEEEEEEE!” hug.
Joy is a land unto itself, dizzying and potent.
“Your hair,” she said, almost immediately
- confiscating my adulthood with ease.
I‘ve missed her interrogations
and itchy, absorbing interest.
Re-entering childhood can be emotionally wearing
I needed a skin of those shuttle tiles for reentry.
The funny thing is, I get to watch my momma smother
under Grandmère’s beam-fixture gaze.
It seems awfully bright in here - far below the overcast.
.
.
Songs for this:
Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Sirens
Conexão by Amber Mark
In your role for binary..You on how things be, chromosomes have not lied in millenia
Gone by..Reality its still the same.' Its straight
And plain.' Just cause some(well confused)
Ideas ' pie in the mud ' make things so God
Awfully un-clear..As sod-em.' Its an abberation of duty
Ruled on by some (un-fruend) fiendish perhaps? And quite snooty.? Though whats
In a name.? Though quite german, as would have been with the nazis, such a
Moniker connotes of much un-ease, a
Benign name discription, dispensing of
Twisted jusistiction.'
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