“Neither desire nor aversion
Meditation our immersion
Conditioned beliefs discarded
Hymns we hum are our own version”
After rain, the burnt paddock smells of iron.
Rusted wire hums along the boundary,
teaching the grass its old obedience.
All my life, I mistook such lines
for safety.
I do not have to follow.
My mind is a dry, hot wind
stirring the ash;
a frantic moth beating
against the unyielding wire.
It is the sudden clawing of a frightened animal,
the bitter, ancient lure of being right,
the tide that pulls the old hymns from my throat.
I do not have to follow.
Instead, cold rain enters the ash-dark soil.
The run-off clears, stripping the blackened crust
until desire and aversion
loosen their old grip.
A single grey thrush resumes its quiet call,
and what was rigid loosens into breath,
unbound from the boundary I carried within.
I do not have to follow.
I walk away from the rusted wire,
humming no song I was given—
only the rain’s small rhythm
finding its way through me.
Unfold the threads that braved the storm and sun,
The frayed and faded red, the starlight blue,
Its watch is kept, its noble duty done,
Returned from distant seas where freedom grew.
No longer raised to catch the morning air,
Nor guard the quiet dark with loyal keep,
We gently fold the seams with silent care,
And yield the cloth to honorable sleep.
Let gentle embers take the sacred weave,
As burning threads ascend in quiet grace;
No cause for bitter tears or hearts to grieve,
For honor leaves an everlasting trace.
Though vanished from the halyard to the sky,
Its spirit lives in dreams and that never die.
Motives change at the back of the queue
The fire increases at those pushing through
I look at the river, it makes no complaint
The body's poisoned with poor restraint
After awakening, that's where time goes
Screams subside, the mind now knows
Mutant thoughts will be misunderstood
It's another birth, another childhood
NEVER SAY NEVER…. not ever or at no time possible is anything dormant
a blindman can see things without his eyes envisioned and focus
A face can be wash with just the tears flowing from
Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean you weak if you cry out
You can truly, truly, make it if you don’t give up just try free will
Open mindedness is the blank thought that can be virility filled
Never use never narrative because it leaves no room for changing
Because of dislikes and hardships, dislikes or doubting keep going
Even a deaf person can hear a vison sound beats within the hearts-eyes reign
Being uncertain certain that change is a thing nothing permanent wait for a change
9/16/26
For Never Say Never Poetry Contest
Suzette Prime Form Only.
Sponsored by: Suzette Richards
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Max 10-line poem.
Max 23 syllables in any given line.
Syllables Per Line: 21 16 12 15 17 17 17 16 19 21
Total # Syllables: 171
Total # Lines: 10 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 123
silver spring light drifts
across the mirror’s quiet face;
I watch myself change~
wonder rising in its place.
Secrets remain hidden,
A story stays untold.
Walls grow taller,
And the padlock keeps it closed.
Keys are given
To all who reside within
And to the few who earn my trust.
Because what lies inside
Was meant to be hid.
The outside,
A perfect dreamhouse,
White-picket fence and all.
How ironic,
The same colour of drywall
In which I watched a crater form.
Few visitors ever see
What goes on
Behind closed doors.
Once I give them a spare key,
Nothing is hidden anymore.
The doorknob beckons for your hand
Before it’s too late.
Now you see inside the house,
And I know
What happens next.
Now you know my secrets,
My deepest, darkest fears,
And that shatters your lens,
Because I am now real.
But the windows are now smashed,
The story’s been told,
Walls are still crumbling,
And a new padlock now holds.
Chi Chi Rodriguez made golf fun to watch
He’d sink a crucial putt
Then throw his hat down over the hole
and do a spirited dance around it
A smile overspread his face
a silent tune flowed through his veins
His dance inspired fans to cast off their inhibitions
and join him in joy unrivaled
Taking a sport of fiercely guarded emotions
blowing it wide-open
laughing in the tense face of tradition
37 Tournaments wins
First Puerto-Rican inducted into Golf’s Hall of Fame
~ put his uptight compadres to shame
modifications
to a failing vacation
~ are not impatience
One door closes, another opens
different phases oft find us half-asleep
Like the moon, they wax and wane regularly
though folks don’t always see
Conditioned to think they’re spread out
they can come in bunches
Disrupting our mindsets
evading our hunches
And when we think we’ve reached the end
another phase may lie around the bend
To shake us from complacency
to stir the pot ~ to bury reverie
Money laughs in the daylight,
Showing off like it owns the
Block.
Every dollar retains a joke
And a bruise.
Quick to bless, quicker to
Bite,
It shifts moods like weather
On a bad street.
But after hours it cries quietly
Remembering every soul it eluded.
This small god with moods
Keeps moving-
Blessing, breaking never
Staring long.
As the Seasons Change
Winter comes with signs as the trees grow bare
God's creatures huddle under a blanket of gold
Yet the pines stand well dressed without a care
Autumn comes with her breath so cold
And winter follows suit, it's true
The summer green fades to gold in these days
As nature waits for spring to blossom anew
While the passing of the seasons change our ways
The strongest rise with
Echoes behind them; no
Legend ever truly won alone.
Every victory carries
Fingerprints of those who
Refused to let them fall; no
Won alone.
When uncertainty tried to rewrite
Their name, someone
Whispered strength back into
Their bones; they never won
Alone.
Even giants leaned on quiet
Warriors, the ones who held
Them steady when storms won
Alone.
Greatness is a rapport, not a
Solo; every step forward was
Carried by hands that won
Alone.
Michaela speaks truth to legacy:
No hero, no survivor, no Legend
Even won Alone.
Do l belong anymore
On that l am just not sure
Once it felt like coming home
Now it feels empty and alone
Once l knew it was for me
I had found my place of acceptance and happy
Now uncertainty reigns
The unknown flows through my veins
Once l had definite clarity
Now l feel no solidarity
Once verses now ….at completely different ends
Time has changed what once felt like ….a dear old friend
Nature
wills it so
that life
must always
adapt.
And evolve
when small
mutations
spark change.
Sentient
beings
seek out God,
for life
claims a soul;
to ascend.
There was a time when I truly thought you stole,
everything from me
The intense pain reached deeper than anything imaginable
There were so many losses
There were so many lies
There was so much that I couldn't do anything about,
as you went on and on with hurricanes of manipulation and control
It took a long time to learn that this would never change
It took a long time to learn to find my own peace
It took years to overcome the baragment of guilt you put upon me
But I am here now and I will never go back
I see everything that I have, everything I am grateful for
I didn't need you to do a thing; I did it all myself
9/12/26
Heidi Sands
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