His proprioceptors on fire
Johnny jumps higher and higher
His hand scrapes the rim
He dunks the ball in
Wrong rim, Johnny, howls the umpire
i was rotting from the inside
felt it younger
this sentiment of not fitting in
hidden it
putting on a mask
covering it
a spoiled apple in the basket
imitating it's pears
i can no longer blend in
now
i'm rotten from the core and beyond
all see it
the rotten apple
will not last long
Three back scratchers
Box of tissues, off brand
Birthday card
Six pencils
Four erasers
A couple of paint brushes
Hair dye
Pink pony tail holder
Ruler
Magazines
Marbles
Empty pill bottle
Towel
Toothpaste
Marvel comic book
Scotch tape
Three-year-old ding dong
Inhaler
Thank you note
Pencil sharpener
Two notebooks – one red, one blue
Gel pens
Blue paint tape
This is a tiny peek at what I keep in my basket next to my chair
Because you never know when you will need something ……
A young woman steps into the woods,
its canopy caressing her,
the air around her
vibrating with stillness.
She pauses beneath a gnarled tree~
its branches covered
with star-shaped leaves
each one flickering
with prophecy.
Above her,
the crescent moon hangs low,
its lunar breath offering her
a secret.
She holds a basket of stars
in her hands,
each one glowing
with the possibility
of becoming something
she has not yet dared to imagine.
She stands there pondering…
not the path behind her,
nor the one ahead,
but the quiet question
the forest asks
when it senses
she’s come seeking
more than direction~
she’s come seeking
the shape of her own radiance.
And in that stillness,
the star-leaves murmur,
the moon leans nearer,
and the basket brightens
as though answering her
in a language
she is only now
beginning to remember.
(((*************************************************************)))))
(((bulbs burst out birth-bliss ^^^^ ))))))
((( *** blooms bring forth God-blest harvests*** ))))))
((!!! buds breed Spring baskets %%% !!!))
((~~~ () () () () () () () () () () () () ~~~)))
((** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** *** **))
(((“” ! ! “” ! ! “” ! ! “” ! ! “” ! ! ! “” ! ! “” ! ! “” ! ! )))
(((((@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ @)))))
*Numbers 6:24-26 The LORD bless thee, and keep thee: The LORD make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.
April 9, 2026
1st place, "Illusku: Illustrated Haiku Challenge 4" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul; judged on 4/20/2026
THE BASKET, OH, THE BASKET!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September air thick with coming frost,
Sophie stumbled upon it:
a child's forgotten Halloween basket,
woven reeds smelling faintly of candy corn
(a flavor she secretly despised).
the basket, oh, the basket!
heaped high, not with sticky sweets
or plastic trinkets, but acorns
glorious, perfectly polished acorns!
this wasn't just finding food.
this was winning the lottery
after praising the
nut-gathering gods.
winter? Let it come.
Sophie had a basket.
Sophie had a plan.
Sophie, frankly,
was set.
BASKET OF OINTMENTS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In youth, I did endlessly frolic and play,
With nary a care in any given day.
But now I must confess,
With a moan and a sigh and much distress,
I’m totally loyal to "Pharmacy Jay."
With his basket of ointments and creams,
I’m embracing my age, or so it seems.
Though I laugh and I jest,
I must say, I’m blessed,
For my youth lives in fond, silly dreams!
As so many shoppers
consistently doing all manner of wrong
fail to return their trolleys
from whence they came to where they belong
it really irks when I leave work
drive my hybrid to the supermarket
circle the car park for what seems hours
and can't find a place to park it
the question may seem odd to some
and yet I have to ask it
why don't those self-same lazy people
do to it what they'd do with a shopping basket
sunday afternoon
fresh basket of wildflowers ~
a knock on Nan's door
AP: 2nd place 2025
There is something so
sad about fireworks.
They're so flashy,
pretty, and exciting,
but as they fade it
makes you feel sort
of lonely.
Afterall, they're
nothing more than
a semi-permanent
spark intended to
entertain for a
semi-permanent
moment.
The people that
come into our lives
are a lot like the
fireworks:
flashy, pretty,
exciting.
Then
we blink,
and they
fade.
There is
something so
sad about fireworks.
And there is
something so
lonely about being
forced to participate
in an event that you
know isn't going to
last forever.
Bittersweet flash,
bittersweet fade,
bittersweet everything.
She, in her Easter bonnet
Standing beneath the shade,
Alongside gentlemen in top hats
To view an Easter parade
Church bells ring distantly
Showy, white lilies sway,
Waving to sweet daffodils
On this springtime holiday
Baskets with chocolate rabbits
Jelly beans and colored eggs,
Are carried by happy children
Running by on pudgy legs
A whirl of pastel colors
Meant to delight the eye,
Like the first time seeing
A robin or a butterfly
Joyous music fills the air and
Easter dinner is on the way,
Ham and pineapple wait at home
To round out this special day!
Bamboo needs soaking
To make it more pliable
It's easy to bend.
A waste paper basket, a trash can, a bin
Whatever you call it, some things won’t stay in
The things that you write
Long into the night
May make, when discarded… one hell of a din
*
Don’t write by moonlight at midnight
Do not trash your tale late at night
For powers unseen
And terribly mean
May use it to give you a fright
I know, for it happened to me
I tell for I need you to see
I binned every word
And later I heard
A screech of malevolent glee
*
I lie wide awake in my bed
My discarded verse in my head
I tiptoe downstairs
With prickling neck hairs
For something smells like it’s long dead
A full moon sheds just enough light
In the room where I sit down to write
But somehow I know
It won’t let me go
This thing I created tonight
It lives for it never can die
I think I now understand why
I wrote about strife
My words gave it life
And you can’t kill words, though you try
The waste paper basket taunts me
It’s dark in the room but I see
A claw on its rim
My thoughts turn to Grimm
It mutters my name… and I flee
Hand's Up Dashing, Feat Moving, Ball Grasping .... Let's Soar!
Sound's Fill The Gymnasium, Nothing Blocks Our Chore!
Inside, Outside, .... Up And Down, Once, .... More!
Basket Bucket, Rim, Rim, Shoot From The Floor;
Bounce Tap, Dribble Tap,
Great We'll Score!
Past An Orange Ball, Above Two Rim's Of Red.
Catching Signal's Sign's Running On The Power Lines.
Adding On The Score To Winning, ... Time.
Adding On The Score To Winning, .... Time!
A Chance Rest's Up To Win The Cash, Let's Jump!
Shuffling Feat Quick And Neat, Strongest On The Backboard Please!
Gain's From Our Strain's Leaving Nothing On The Past;
Up And Down The Backboard, Up And Down The Backboard!
Gain's From Our Strain's Aren't Fading In The, .....
Basket Bucket Rim, Rim,
Shoot From The Floor.
Bounce Tap, Dribble Tap, .... Great We'll, .... Score!!
!
I have seen plenty of things never been experienced by an alive eye socket.
I have been through the struggle of filling my empty pockets.
Call me a sprocket.
But I have valid questions.
Like, when will our country restore its status as food basket?
When will I have fresh water in the bucket?
When will I have my next brisket?
With the above granted I will very jubilated like a player who has found a wicket.
How I wish I played cricket.
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