A massive iron cage, brick,
sand and cement, rising
to become a home of human happiness
Hail, hail, concrete father
Hail, hail, the high-rise
A nest for human dreams
Those who are building
my house, I wonder,
where is their home
I have arranged it beneath the clouds,
a canopy of rain, would someone
come to be the bride and groom
A night by the swimming pool
beneath the water, blue
lights
A round of bickering first thing in the morning,
then all day long, thinking
about married life
At the very top of a secluded balcony
blooming
dahlias and chrysanthemums
Caught
in a spider's web
a shiuli flower
Tom and Jerry
Popeye the Sailor
ha ha ha
Tender hands
the racing wishes
of coloured pencils
There is love
There is no love
Love
In another life
perhaps, yellow
wildflowers
A cat and a pigeon
in between
me
It rained in the afternoon
the evening
feels beautiful
A gopuram
magnificent
the Dravidian land
Fallen leaves, fallen feathers,
their new moons
and full moons
The day drifts away
there is no shore
nor is there a boat
We pull up to the table with our heavy, soiled clothes,
Still carrying the friction of the paths our ego chose.
The malice and the whispers, the masks we try to wear,
We strip them off like rags at the doorway of His care.
And like a crying infant in the quiet of the night,
We reach out for the nourishment that sets our vision right.
Not tethered to humanity, nor fed on the algorithms trash,
But drinking deep the living Word that survives the lightning flash.
It’s milk to make us gentle, it’s meat to make us strong,
It turns our bitter bickering into a quiet song.
We pull the anchor from the world, its panic and its pride,
To measure life by love that’s high and deep and long and wide.
For happiness is not a prize we chase across the floor;
It catches up to us from behind as we enter through His door.
He shows the path of life to us, where our daily worries fade,
Restored inside the presence of the One by whom we’re made.
Comedy of summer has come to my yard.
Pond Turtle seems clumsy as seen tripping
on concrete gravel. Two scrub Jays compete
for a comfy spot, bickering over tree limbs.
A Beetle Bug runs in circles on the front porch
deck, then counter-clock-wise--Practicing what?
Choreography for the Beetle Bug barn dance?
Our little dog mimics a lizard doing pushups
in sunshine on the deck, as the lizard stares
him down.
The Buck in the back yard sits in dirt to rest,
his antlers being too big to cart around
much longer. Doe stands over him tapping
her hoof, or so it looks like to me from here.
she was staring into the future lost
drowning out the bickering of her boss
asking "why am I here?" and "why won't I leave?"
not caring what she understands or perceives
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him!"
"I would have been on my own."
On my own
"I would have begged him to stay."
"He shouldn't have to stand alone."
stand alone, on my own.
we say things we can't take back
no matter how much we didn't mean it
we have to leave it at that.
but if we truly love them finding a way won't be hard
but the distance that regret can cause can be a journey to far
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him!"
"I would have been on my own."
On my own
"I would have begged him to stay."
"He shouldn't have to stand alone."
stand alone, on my own.
Let me see his eyes, to see if he wants me again
let us touch an embrace so my regret will see an end
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him!"
"I would have been on my own."
On my own
"I would have begged him to stay."
"He shouldn't have to stand alone."
stand alone, on my own.
let us close the distance
Each thought and action has a consequence,
it's energy sent into the universe
that attracts more of the same.
Wouldn't it be fabulous if everyone generated
positive energy that was loving and
conducive to building a better society?
Have we not had enough of bickering
and toxic fighting amongst ourselves
that lead to chaos, war and endless devastation?
Create the peace you want to see around you
by nurturing thoughts of harmony and acts of kindness
~ and one day the world will become a better place.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Full House.
The little house in the poor part of the town
The walls are looking ready to burst.
When the newlyweds were young, it was small
for them, and they spoke of getting another one.
Time was hard, and one child after another
was born, eight in all.
The long-ago newlywed joked they had to
wait to get the house back when
The children became adults and could find their
own place to live; it took time
and finally they were alone, but not at peace,
The whole quarter of rickety houses was
being erased like removing memories of hard times,
And the bulldozers came.
The couple got a small flat in a high-rise building
and with their children moving in or out
According to their bad luck in life,
The small flat was soon full of bickering adult children.
Sacred are the living?
And just why would that be?
Decay, gifts a-giving!
Under the skin to see.
Light, fall fast! Soul, fly away.
Poison, work thee hard.
Sunlight in my sky, shine grey!
Crystals, bear thy shard!
Emperor of ancient world?
Best that ye revive.
Spear in warrior hands a-hurled!
No longer alive!
Doom, claim all. End Times, begin.
How else can we win?
Blanch everything, light of Sin!
Drown it all, O vin!
Wicker man and bickering mare.
Tortoise, eat the hare.
O tornado, on a tear!
Thunderstorms aren't rare...
Warp and woof. The Devil's hoof.
Gambrel, pitch and roof.
Smoke of bonfire, in a poof!
Joker, time to goof!
Hated are the days of man.
Lengthen not each span.
Clock of mankind, how you ran!
Eat, reptilian!
Can you hear the absence of bickering,
the snickering, snide remarks and animosity?
The pomposity of inflated egos in blogs
that just shouldn't be taking place.
A blog without the chance for someone's
feelings to be trampled and hurt~
Just once~ humor me for creating such a blog.
The gate creaked, moaning and groaning to shut,
Sealing up, quelling, the bickering blame-game glut.
No you can’t sneak around, and jump the fence,
With grave looting cries of grief-stricken offense!
That won’t work anymore! So don’t strut up on-bail,
Clad in your ghostly godforsaken gossamer veil,
Claiming it was not your fault, 'cos you told no lie!
For snake-eyes have tears that very quickly dry!
The gist was far to hollow, for back-sliding disdain,
So go! The gate’s locked - you won’t get in again.
For Aunt Carolyn, in memory of Uncle Dennis
They were just teens outside a gift shop door,
He said, "Come on, Darling, let’s go explore."
With a wink and a grin, and her hand in his,
They stepped into life, not knowing how rare love like this is.
From navy bases to state lines they flew,
Boxes unpacked and smiles that grew.
Never a house—always a home,
Because love made each place their own.
He’d kiss her forehead, she'd fix his tie,
Even their bickering made cupids sigh.
Like teenagers dancing in a kitchen floor war,
Even their "fights" left you loving them more.
They held hands through hospital halls,
Through birthday cake crumbs and late-night calls.
And even when life was painfully tough,
They reminded us all—true love is enough.
Now she stands where he once stood near,
A bit more quiet, but holding him dear.
Because the thing about love that’s truly true—
Is it doesn’t end. It just waits for you.
So Aunt Carolyn, brave heart, please know this is true:
He’s just ahead now, saving a seat for you.
Still saying with that boyish grin so clever:
"Come on, Darling... let’s do forever."
Angie and Ruby, the Honky Tonk Women,
wanted to paint the honkytonk. Their heads started swimmin'
when I says, "Ruby, Tuesday's a good day to paint.
It should be sunny, but even if it ain't,
I'll have my radio blasting The Rolling Stones.
What kind of colors you want? What tones?"
"Paint it Black" says Ruby, but Angie, she says "white".
I says, "Tumblin' Dice can decide which is right."
Ruby said, "We got this old black paint from DuPont -
Angie, You Can't Always Get What You Want".
I painted up the honkytonk, nothing more to discuss.
I gazed at some Wild Horses, and picked a mean ol' cuss,
tired of all these women folks's bickering and fuss.
I had paint Under My Thumb, and my clothes were in a muss
as I saddled up the horse, thinking, Some Girls are pretty funny,
and I won't paint no more honkytonks for that kind of money.
What I see in stars above is extremely wearisome,
with useless inane details that I wish I never knew.
Light years, space-time, black holes, big bangs,
myriads of pricks 'n specks a billion miles away - who cares?
I've been over-dubbed, deluded, and robbed,
of the romance, songs, stories,
and delightful spiritual legends
that ancient master star gazers saw
in stars above.
Hunter and archers with sword, belt, arrows and shield,
A veritable zoo of animals - lion, ram, bull, bear, llama, emu,
goat, scorpion, fish and severed heads, under arms.
Pots and pans, the scrub-a-dub dish that
ran away with the spoon.
Regal Heracles, Achilles and Troy in battles raging skyward
Bickering Gods, Virgins, Kings and Queens with kids and twins.
Action-men Pharaohs, wannabee Gods,
leaping from pyramid tops,
onto the ladder of the Milky Way, which is -
The River of Heaven, Road of Souls
The Spilled Breast Milk of Hera the Mother God
The seed-strew pathway the mighty Emus trod,
pecking their way,
In stars above.
We all should get out and look up more!
Gazing with ancient eyes into the sky above,
reveling to see and enjoy what they saw,
in stars above.
Beneath bickering brass, bluebirds balance beats on baritone branches.
Words clash, sharp and loud,
No bridge built, just walls rising,
Nation's breath held tight.
©bfa050825
Sunlight finds a gap
between two bickering stones—
moss builds a cathedral.
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