Choices Poems

Fate Tends Hang On a Knife-Edge

All because of that single decision 
To grasp that grate and breathe in the ethereal skies above 
Rather than 
To let go of that grate and suffocate in the foul sewage below 

Because of what he chose 
This is what he is 


Independent 
Not 
Incarcerated 

Whole 
Not 
Wounded 

Confident 
Not 
Confused 


Slipping off of the

THE POPE AND THE QUEEN

Growing up with the personalities like the Pope and the Queen, was interesting. 
One wanted the house perfect, with no words spoken, only duty to perform the women chores as a wife. 
A wife in her duty to her husband and family, no other issue could come before.  The Queen always wanted her freedom,

Be clear on your goal

all decisions won't be easy
who knows what lies around the corner
be true to your ambition



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

CHOICES

       

I chose to be like the air 
because it allowed me 
Be like the wind, 
And fly! 
I chose to be like water 
because it allowed me 
sea 
And bathe you! 
I chose your love, 
because it allowed me 
Take your fire, 
and burning me, 
Without burning me!

So Many Choices, Coincidentally

      By the bye or by the way
        either one I never say 
 
      I choose to use ‘incidentally’ 
        anyway or accidentally

THE LAST IN LINE

THE LAST IN LINE*
~~~~~~~~~~~
This poem was inspired by my favorite Ronnie James Dio song/lyrics, “The Last in Line.”

In the fading light of day,
will I find the shadows of my soul
dancing in the twilight,
or will the light reveal my truths,
as I sift through the ashes of my choices?

I pause, pondering 
‘am I the architect of my

Positive Choices for Love and Happiness

Sometimes a person will try to find happiness and decide for themselves to become happy. 
Later they realize they had made a positive choice as the person they wanted to be close to reciprocated their love. 
They are in awe with their decision. 
Each day when they interact with their decision they cry with tears

Learning On The Path Of Life

Whichever pathway you decide to choose,
They’ll always be lessons and lots of clues.
On every pathway, lessons will exist, 
Finding truth will require that you persist.

Walking a path, does not learning assure.
Takes more than presence, learning to secure.
From your doubt you ask, “why aren’t I learning?”
Lacking desire, the internal burning.
 
In the present, let the path

The choices we never got to make

A life of false happiness 
Or death by defiance
They claim we have a choice
But what kind of choice is a life of imprisonment or a death penalty
An eternal life of isolation 
Or an eternity of nothingness 

With choices like that who needs control
Or to be caged by manipulation
For us the ideal choice 
Would be death
To

Choices I make

There are arches and doorknobs
I feel with my hands but,
instead of pushing through,
around and round
i meander clueless,
my head in a cloud
caught up in the darkness
I coddle to the point
of despair and delusion.



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

UNRAVELLING CHOICES AND CHOICES

In the spirit of hope, we contemplatively search
Beyond the horizon for the mystic exorcism
Of the pandemic deaths proliferating from
The disparity reigning from viral social
And political infestations decimating
We selected targeted ones of color:-
And the audacity of such hope, must be sought
Within the horizon of the spirit of our mind and soul,
Where abides the power exorcism infused

There are choices I've made that no longer speak, but scream within me

There are choices I've made that no longer speak, but scream within me,
Like winds lost in a violent storm, stirring my silent soul,
I cannot return to them, cannot mend them, but they pass over me,
Like cold shadows slipping across warm skin, leaving sensations of untamed longing.
I regret them in ways for which I have no

CHOICES

We make our own choices
In life and no one's perfect
But when you decide to have kids
It's your responsibility not
The grandparents, the children now
Have excessive energy, don't listen
Throws tantrums, and have no
Discipline at all, because they're
Not taught, if you the parent
Can't control them what expect
From the grandparents, then you
want them to babysit Monday through
Friday, plus weekends

so many choices

tiny spider climbs up my windshield
so teensy, she makes a sand grain seem big
I have lots of choices
I could smash her with my finger or a piece of paper
I could let her live
Could pretend I did not see her
One of thousands of choices I make each day

A Dance of Choices: Research or Poetry

For two years, I've woven verses like threads of gold,  
Yet in the shadows, my unfinished research whispers,  
A ghost from the past, beckoning me to mend the frayed edges,  
Now and then, I stumble into a fog, yearning to complete the tapestry left undone.

The research demands ten hours, six days a

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