I advocate for humanity, against the twisted blights..Hostile forces in society pharmica and any such-like' wars on
Economy.'s and others intrinsic rescource's'
Let it be hawks for hunting, and horses
For grass courses.' Let humanity thrive or demise
On its own.' With God to be our judge and Him alone.' So I open the gate to access the
Track, to run the race, no holding back, to
Battle the evil, i find in me, and in this world
That claims it is yet free.? I move we advance
to this option.' eschew any thought of
flight, yet battle for good values,
While claiming all ' of your ranters rights.'
Simple as a nap in my favorite blanket,
directly I’ll pass out on that old sofa.
Gentle as this cat covering weary feet,
now I’m free to let the outside world go.
Directly I’ll pass out on that old sofa,
every piece of decor makes it mine.
A home remedy to bring about serenity.
Gentle as the cat covering weary feet,
good lookin’ out as I float into dreams.
My muse mushrooms right into fireworks.
Now I’m free to let the outside world go,
safe in this wondrous place that I’ve built.
I worked hard to lay claim to this address.
my cat is mercurial and sound
she prances when she thinks I am not around
but if I notice her she does this slippery slink
her name is on the edge of my dendrites, just on the brink
Prancer seems too lively, Slinker seems unfair
The cat is now batting at an imaginary dog in the air
Why not call her imagination? The dog suggests.
I give him the roll eye, his ideas are never the best
Call me Crissy, Jin-Jin, Jakey, Petunia or John
The cat transports into my brain, and gives me a yawn.
You know her name, my soul work states in dream.
It has always suited her, because she is the Queen.
Sometimes I don’t know what to think
When I hear your story, I’m almost convinced
Because I don’t have extraordinary evidence for my claims
Just a hazy memory, a gnawing feeling, and a name
When I forget and when I doubt
I close my eyes and figure it out
What claim on me do you have—
O Specter robed in lawful guise—
Who counts my breath, who weighs my heart,
Who peers through hollow, measuring eyes?
Body, mind, and soul you name,
As if they were your lawful due;
You tally scars, you number pain,
And still demand what yet is new.
What more must I be forced to show,
Too often, in this single frame?
I bled over and over again—was it not enough?
To prove the substance of my flame?
Do I possess a soul you need,
To feed your engines, cold with greed?
Must spirit, pain down a titled deed,
Be signed away for all to see ?
I am exhausted—drained and worn
By free labor of breath and thought;
A prisoner to that endless claim,
For all I gave and never sought.
My mind—once fertile as the field,
Before the blight, before the chains—
Now lies in furrows dug by hands
Harvesting all but leaving no grain.
So hear me, void, and answer true:
By what dark right, by what decree,
Do you still ask—when all is spent—
What claim on me do you have?
I find that flowers are not complicated
Although they all have meaningful names
When you approach a flower
There is no reason to ever explain yourself
I find that flowers are uncompromising
What you see is what you get
No need to push past a facade
There is no reason to protect yourself
I find that flowers are not intrusive
They lay no claim to your soul
You are free to just be
There is no reason to unfold yourself
I find that flowers are artwork on the earth’s canvass
They supply our world with a colorful finish
A reminder that you are amazing and imperfectly complete
There is no reason to ever diminish yourself
Our claim to fame Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Contest Judged: 9/21/2025 8:25:00 PM
( 8th Place )
Written: September 20, 2025
We never went after applause.
Never tried to carve our names into stone.
What sticks are the little things:
holding someone’s hand
when they’re falling apart,
holding to what is real,
even when it burns
trying to do right,
even if nobody’s watching.
Death will come,
slow,
patient,
sure.
We’ll meet it without fear,
without regret.
When God calls,
we’ll stand up straight,
unafraid.
Because the world
won’t remember our names—
but it will remember the hands we held,
the courage we slipped through
and the quiet pieces of kindness
we scattered along the way.
Our Claim to Fame
A man is more than his name
But a name that lacks honor
Will leave a man lame.
In this life and the next,
Our struggles will define
Our life in the text--
How our immortal soul
Should be counted:
Will it pay the toll?
Spiritually speaking,
Rationality
We should be seeking.
Morally self-control
Is a vital key
To making us whole.
And, socially,
Justice must be
Sought more than vocally.
The lesser struggle--
As a final resort,
Or nothing but trouble.
Wisdom spoken…well and good,
But wisdom needs action.
This must be understood.
Without real effort,
Our life is vague
And nothing but hurt.
Live long and without regret,
In service to others--
And even better yet…
A truly righteous life
To honor our maker
Without discord or strife.
When death draws nigh
And God’s questions are posed,
Honor answers with head high.
Now clear to all our claim to fame:
A man arrived
With an honored name.
What is our claim to fame,
maybe money, things, toys or a great career?
Money can be good then fought over when we die.
Things come and go,
making us happy and sad.
Toys like a new car,
did we really need it?
A great career,
to tell the world what?
I am someone.
Am I working myself to death but why?
Our claim to fame has a price,
how much are we willing to pay?
It would be better if we could say,
“death approaches but we have no regret ~
when God questions us, we will stand erect”
I am a simple person wanting God's favor over me.
Someone in passing says they’ve seen us
somewhere. It could have been when
we were singing or reciting poetry. At first they
didn't recall the time or place we met.
They smile as if great friends when seeing
us, and we struggle to remember. Maybe we
were just out for fun, but in the other’s eyes
the event was bigger than life. The sun shines
on us, but it could have been night.
It could have been a night when we were
seeing friends over drinks in a bar and
grill on a one-way downtown.
It could have been in a coffee shop
where we read poems, and in the heart
of each person the words and lines
held a different meaning. The atmosphere
was warm, and we called it love.
Someone could remember the time
we walked along the sidewalk, and they
passed un-noticed as they drove along.
I was shy when I was in eighth grade
and asked the girl with red hair if she noticed
me while I was in a crowd below the balcony
where she stood.
O, how much it meant when she said yes.
As I stand before the pearly gate
I reflect upon the hands of fate
The nature of my swift demise
That caught us all; quite by surprise
Reflections on a life well lived
Proud of what I’ve had to give
Pleased with those I leave behind
No desire to press rewind
What has been my claim to fame?
Will those left still know my name?
My life has been a lesson learned
The love I felt was surely earned
I leave behind my finest treasure
Love and knowledge beyond all measure
Future faith in life restoring
To build a world more reassuring
Death approaches
We have no regrets
Dreaming improbable dreams.
Reality betwixt the unfeeling
Monuments souring unhindered.
No longer enslaved slaves
Thinking the unthinkable
To be what we truly feel
Tears that can’t be cried
For pathways to the unknown
Soft velvet sparks so subtle
Teardrops fall in puddles,
Weary eyes forge forward
Forlorn ekphratic meandering
The pain as its vile pungency
Scorns the soul of the angelic
Drives goodness to the brink,
Mighty swords flow protests
To the unyielding winds of time
To defiantly stand up to demons
For a valid worthwhile cause
As the lyrics of memoirs spill
And gazes turn to wonder,
Amid lonely nights of fear
With only love unblemished
If not ourselves what can we be?
Untold ethics to be true.
To ease our savage thoughts
claiming not fame nor fortune
this be our claim to fame.
Doing it our way evermore,
The righted wrongs unsaid.
When God questions us,
We will stand erect.
Human life is sublime creation of Him
Every birth has certain intent.
Preaching or praying
Can’t get you the unsurpassed Moksha
Indeed, He never anticipates them
Identify the chore and accomplish it.
Obstacles may hamper your attention
Continue the journey without stopping by woods
Action and result are like water and a lotus leaf
Water can never make a lotus leaf wet
Let not your mind get agitated by the outcome
You carry out action ; He manifests result.
If you rejoinder your conscience,
You can steadfast in front of God.
But God questions only those who evade
What is stupendous? Living after dying.
Line of inquiry:
“death approaches but we have no regret ~
when God questions us, we will stand erect."
Though ailing on my deathbed, someday I will be
no claim to fame and glory will I seek for me.
No title of greatness nor prize of stardom won
for nothing truly remarkable in life have I done.
I shall not whimper if death hovers, nor shed a tear.
It is not my lack humility or a merciless God I fear.
Aware of my faults; He knows I've things to regret
No angelic halo circles my head, nor divine coronet.
If near death, I should feel His presence in command,
I'd prostrate myself before Him, for I dare not stand.
Down on my knees in praise, is where I'd belong
I'm but a grain of sand, a human who's done wrong.
No questions does God need ask. He knows my heart.
Faith in Him is my bulwark, my haven, my rampart.
I am not a worthy soul to look upon my Creator's face,
On the verge of death, I'll rely on His mercy and grace.
"Death approaches but we have no regret, when God questions us, we will stand erect”
It is only illusion
and I have no proof
that when the time arrives,
I will surely get to see His brilliant smile !
It is but a dream
that one day soon
He will stand before me and ask me,
"What have you done with your life !"
I have tried to live a life
filled with useful days
helping those less fortunate than I,
being human at every good turn.
The gray hair on my temple is a definite sign
that it won't be long before I meet my King
with folded hands and eyes lifted high,
I dare to ask, "Is there a place for me, Lord?"
It is only a spark of hope
burning bright in the kettle of my heart
I am praying that when my hourglass has sifted
through and through
God will say to me, " Sure I have a place for you! "
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