I am not like you
calm and collected
I have some type of fire
that churns inside me
I feel my heart beat thump
as my mind blocks out reason
How do you stand there
with a forced smile?
Is it genetic?
Where you loved more as a child?
Where you hugged tight?
That hug that says everything is alright
I wish I wasn't so impulsive
So aggressive
I may look like a fool
but I also don't hide my feelings
I blurt out words
I often regret
I also say words with true meaning
To numb my fire might be a regret
and I'll say things you'll never forget
Is a diary entry 'poetry' per se?
What if it touches engaging the soul
peeling back layers of raw hidden emotion?
What if it bares sharing innermost secrets ~
what if it articulates heart to heart?
Sometimes we'll just blurt out our feelings
avoiding the fancy frivolous packaging
spilling the beans it's not always pretty.
We just say it like it is
black on white unfiltered uncensored
words spewing out without grace or flair
just getting the load off our chest.
So... are diary entries 'poetry'?
Yes if you want them to be
Yes when they go beyond the mundane
Yes when they pull at your heartstrings
in any way you choose ~
Lineku: 3 stanzas of 5-7-5 lines ~ every line either 5 or 7 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
It was after midnight,
when he slipped out of bed,
careful not to disturb,
the trailing streamers
of dreamers in la la land.
The house held its breath warm—
willing all within its walls
to stay asleep; not be stirred.
The creaks of timber stairs
were never heard, never slurred,
to blurt out their secrets and
break the stark, thin, brittle hush of night.
As he snuck into the kitchen,
the night light came on,
saving a bare-foot snub.
As he stooped to open the fridge,
he saw the note she left on the door,
from the day before, saying:
“I forgot to tell you the milk's a little off.”
He smiled at the crooked charm of the message,
feeling a ghost in the whispered warning.
Fed the milk to the cat.
It purred with delight.
Sometimes he thought, such tiny phrases,
slip in before they're noticed,
curdle before you taste them.
Only to slink away with a sting in their tale.
With that, he nodded and returned.
The fridge door slammed itself shut.
He wandered back to bed, on tiptoe, making no sound.
He left the light night burning,
for the shadows that rose on the landing,
and for the cat.
Both slunk away, back to bed.
Words can hurt
Black and white are in a fight
But no one seems to find the light
Don't climb the ladder
Tearing down other for you to rise
The generation’s are being racist
Someone needs to stop the latest
Words can hurt
2 words can equal ten tears
it's been going on for all these years
Fill a bucket
Don't just chuck it
Words can hurt
More than a shove
Someone please just show some love
The anger is rising just like the temperatures
Please just someone be mature
Have racism exist no more
Words can hurt
Don't just blurt
"It's all going to be okay" he would say,
with no scent of doubt in his breath,
even as its aroma reeked from mine,
as I'd blurt out "how can you be so sure?"
I never figured out what made my dad so positive in life,
though I'm positively sure his life wasn't free from trial
and the upsetting detours that can uproot our foundations
and upend the tables of tradition we depended on.
On and on life goes like this,
until it ends.
I wonder
What traditions did my father depend on
and, lay to rest,
for something, better?
What pressures pressed him so thin
that he'd give up those things
he once loved so dearly?
Is that what transformed him
into the appreciative, hopeful, happy guy
we laid to rest?
The comments we like for dessert
Are iambs that writers here blurt
But eating foul crunch
That slaughtered lambs munch
Tastes toxic like trumped-up bad dirt
Canada needed a hero but a fowl mouth so this Merc is a jerk that can not be hurt Ey like a cancerous sewer flowing south Spidey sense breaking the fourth stall with a blurt A constipated death stroke the creative drouth The comedic squirts, let us put him in a skirt The Plagiarizer ain’t a marvelous hero Regenerate degenerate a Zero
Self-assertion blatant, repelling babble exuberant, closing floodgates you eschew, none fooled by you.
you speak,
winds shriek,
shout loud,
feel proud,
you brag
self tag,
your lies
none buys,
voice lone,
place shown,
musk breaks,
face wrecks,
mouth shut,
stops glut.
You blurt garbage dirt, off your guard, torn to shard, do a volte-face, eat words in disgrace.
__ __
> | <
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W
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That which hurts is so easy to say
but that which comforts
needs careful consideration
we can blurt out what hurts
but what comforts
needs time for some thought
the one is always loaded
ready to fire
the other needs priming
consideration and thought
the one is delivered
with forcefulness and thunder
asking no quarter
the other
with a tentative smile
and that obligatory affirmation
“Nooo, I mean it.”
the one tears deep
the other uplifts
we know this
because we all have been
bedevilled by both
we have delivered both
and we have received both
yet nothing has changed
one cannot help thinking
that it never will change
why is that
I wonder.
Fanny's flirts and flings had found her fickle fame,
She couldn't shed her shady shame off her name.
T'was more give than take,
Yet none for her sake -
Till one fond foreplay - Fanny finally came.
From there Fanny's fishy repute fell deep down,
Far, wide and beyond her native English town.
Not the faintest flirt
She would ever blurt -
Fanny from then came with a fret and a frown.
Fanny's infamous frenetic fellow Dick
Stood up and came to comfort Fanny real quick.
Dick and his glory
Left in a hurry -
Perpetuating plot - Fanny and the Prick.
To Dick's bewildered eyes it turned out Fanny,
In the grand scheme of thing was drag queen Tranny.
Dick ran for his life,
And back to his wife -
Scared, seldomly strayed from adoring Annie.
April 28, 2023
It’s the spurt of a wrong blurt,
It’s the curt that cuts to hurt,
It’s a mirth that not of worth.
Melt the frost from my winter-loving heart.
A mood storm fueled by the vibe of charm.
Petals under mistletoe promise by the blurt.
Winter's stillness engulfed me as a swarm.
A mood storm fueled by the vibe of charm.
In the rubble you left me in, there was a candle.
Winter's stillness engulfed me as a swarm.
A burst of hope faded while poised for a mantle.
In the rubble you left me in, there was a candle.
Flowers and inlay have stood as the year goes.
A burst of hope faded while poised for a mantle.
However, only God's eyes never tend to close.
Flowers and inlay have stood as the year goes.
Whimsey in the midnight, solace amid sorrow.
However, only God's eyes never tend to close.
Peace in the dusk, balm as my brows furrow.
Whimsey in the midnight, solace amid sorrow.
Petals under mistletoe promise by the blurt.
Peace in the dusk, balm as my brows furrow.
Melt the frost from my winter-loving heart.
Written: Decenber 1st 2022
She chooses to drown her mind with music,
Instead of how she would down drinks until sick.
She chooses to go home to find some relief,
Instead of how she used to roam to escape all of her grief.
She chooses to swallow unspoken hurt,
Instead of throwing hollow words she could blurt.
She chooses to heal her own heart,
Instead of trying to change how others feel on her part.
I’m minding my business
While out for a walk
When a man looks my way
Like he’s wanting to talk.
I notice some cards
He has clutched in his hand,
But I don’t know exactly
The speech he has planned.
As I pass, he calls out;
I catch only one word,
Which is “Jesus,” but though
That is all that I heard
I am certain he’d hoped,
With that one little blurt,
That I might be a person
Who’d like to convert.
I replied, with restraint,
(Not a semblance of cursin’)
“Oh man, you are reaching out
To the wrong person!”
Religious beliefs
(Or the lack of, as well)
Should be private, without
Any need to compel
Someone else to accept
Other faiths than their own;
So proselytizers –
Please leave me alone!
Do we always know what someone means
Is it obvious or do we wonder
Are we sometimes left just a little puzzled
Or does it finally strike like thunder
Evasive tactics can be quite intentional
Not wanting to divulge private info
Like telling someone of a sticky situation
So we resort to mumbo jumbo
Eventually when we can no longer stall
We finally blurt out what we mean
“Your dress is tucked up in your undies
Showing the nicest assets I've seen”
Should always try to read between the lines
So we never get put on the spot
Best is to walk up to her and simply whisper
Don't mind but we see what you've got!
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