Barking. Off, away
By Frank Daub
She is UNAWARE that she cannot stay – too long.
Her time is limited to short intensiveness,
so, she doesn’t hold back, but plays
and zooms in circles through every room
open to her padded paws.
Stopping suddenly short –
she remembers the love we share
and she pads back to sit looking up at me.
That is when I pray that pups are part of Heaven.
There
Is that which
Cannot be
Communicated
Yet words form
And may pretend
To have broken
The code
But the code and
The words are
Already that
A tale of futility
But kinda fun..
Local Knowledge,
Will always give you the edge,
On what bets to hedge,
Where best to plant a hedge,
Where not to dredge.
Ask a local and pay no fee,
Get the best info for free,
Even comes with a cup of tea,
And a garden in full bloom to see.
With local input,
You can increase your output,
With no no time out,
To hear the locals shout,
why were we not told about.
If you want long term profit,
Local knowledge will always be a better fit,
And save the need for a costly refit.
Best of all time for more golf will be a given,
So, why not give in,
Meet with the locals at their local Inn,
Put your original plan in the bin,
Giving logic time to settle in.
,
Without metaphor or simile
symbolism, imagery
poetry it cannot be
Bone-dry language
prosaic thought
as poetry ‘tis all for naught
Dare you disagree with me?
~ poetry it cannot be
Arms entwined
Body pressed against body
Lips engaging lips
Thighs in a bind-
I cannot turn away- so -
Instead, I say, " Will you two, please get a room"
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ the ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ pulse.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦ mounts ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ and beats ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ with the surge.
¦¦¦ it bursts. ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ announced.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ running through the streets.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ in ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ their shoes.
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ it sheltered ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ led
By a ¦¦¦¦¦¦ gesture. ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
It enters. ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ dancing.
(Blackout of The Assassination by Donald Justice)
653.
The 3rd Period of the Pre-Spanish Era of Philippine History:
Trade with Southeast Asian Neighbors
Written: July 11, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Line Gauthier
****************
Grief stays—slow snowfall seals the silent night,
Time weeps—deep sleep dims every fading light.
Lost love - heart's throb echoes that I can't flee,
Sad years—bleak hymns sink in, griefs I foresee.
Through fading rain, your voice—a soft refrain,
Grief's thief brings back your sweet ache again.
Night inherits day's endless chitchat,
shares it with the starlit canopy
holding imagination thereat.
She is on the wrong side of normal,
as if she's a mental amputee
or lives on a lonely sea’s atoll.
She fancies she is a butterfly
or a flower-chasing bumblebee,
but I reckon she's a damselfly.
Let her frolic in her fantasy,
ever in that starlit apogee~
forever night's lovely adoptee!
Life is about win or loose
But dont be afraid.
Be bold when life is loosing
Be humble when life is winning.
Money is part of life
But money is not life
Enjoy life by money
But don't run behind money.
Life wins when you face your problem
Life looses when you think you cannot
Although your life is hard don't care about it
Be happy,smily and face the situations that comes.
Life is about win or loose
But dont be afraid.
Be bold when life is loosing
Be humble when life is winning.
Money is part of life
But money is not life
Enjoy life by money
But don't run behind money.
Life wins when you face your problem
Life looses when you think you cannot
Although your life is hard don't care about it
Be happy,smily and face the situations that comes.
It happens that I am perturbed/
by the way the trees bend to match the/
curvature of the earth/
child-like fingers that haven't yet learnt to be gentle/
pushing them like blades of grass/
hoping they don't crack beneath the weight of innocence/
the long-dead philosophers might turn over/
in their graves/
a reminder of all that has lived and died/
and knowledge that is nothing compared to the insurmountable belief/
that everyone has the capability to love/
will seep into the dark soil around rotted wood/
and make the worms and spiders writhe/
in uncomfortable tension/
because what is nature without pain/
and what is pain without a means to share it/
I am a poet/
my soul dwells in the/
essence of discovering the unknown and/
being more than just a name on a/
paper no one will ever find/
as the aromatic scent of summer dirt beneath/
clean fingernails and the sound of/
a wind resembling a heartbeat/
live and thrive inside this shell that holds my being/
the same wind inside me that forces the trees to obey/
pounds against my skull/
yet somehow:
I do not bend.
I cannot hibernate without my friend, Daddy.
Baby bear was smitten with his snowman, Maddy
Maddy never said a word, was frozen in place
Daddy saw he could not refuse with any grace
He relented and Baby Bear brought Maddy to the cave
We are going to hibernate until winter, he said, grave
Maddy did not react, did not say one little thing
But only a hat and scarf remained in the spring
Babe, if love were easy, maybe our story would have been lighter—less tears, less silence, less waiting for words that never came.
But ours was never easy. It was fire and rain. Soft kisses and hard lessons. Joy that filled me, and pain that hollowed me out.
There were days you felt like home—your voice calming storms I never spoke about. And then there were days when love turned heavy, and silence said more than words ever could.
We hurt each other, not always on purpose, but because two wounded hearts don’t always know how to love gently.
Still, I stayed, because between the cracks, something real lived there. You knew parts of me I never showed the world.
It wasn’t perfect. We broke, we returned, we broke again—an endless dance between love and pain.
And yet I cannot hate our story.
You taught me deep love, and deeper strength. You taught me that love can heal and hurt in the same breath.
Maybe we were right person, wrong timing. Or maybe we were never meant to last—only to change each other forever.
And even now, a part of me remembers everything.
Because some loves don’t stay forever… they stay within you.
Through walls of glass, the
naked daylight streams,
Exposing rooms where quiet
shadows rest.
Two lonely souls trapped in
forgotten dreams,
Each locked inside a cold,
separate nest.
The crystal palace lets the
world look in,
Yet blocks the warmth of
any healing word,
Beneath one roof, the
distance starts to win,
Their silent grief remains
unseen, and unheard.
The husband watches night
fall from his bed,
The wife lies staring at the
ceiling high,
The tender language of their
past is dead,
Replaced by echoes of a
heavy sigh.
This fragile fortress offers no
defense,
Where transparent walls
build a fortress wall,
The love they harbored,
once so deep and dense,
Now shatters softly as the
dark hours fall.
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