Written: August 22, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Quote: "How beautifully leaves grow old; how full of light and color are their last days." By John Burroughs
The pine lines blur; the sun-rays drop and fade.
Across these fields, thick clouds have thrown their shade.
In twilight dusk, a mist of mellow grace—
Folds down, and wraps the world in cold embrace.
A death-sigh stirs the branches of the trees;
Some aged, hushed curse blows inland from the seas.
Under starlight, have a moment to pause—
Black spaces tear above us, clear out maws.
Bare twigs are whipped and broken in the gale;
That salt-spit from the water turns them pale.
The last few frozen flowers nod and bow—
Those bruised blue petals—just a sign of woe.
The summer songs are dead in this display;
Raw, barred-iron ridge chokes the dying day.
Time takes a cruel turn to seal our fate—
A firm, gray freeze is scratching at the gate.
244.
Prayer When Conscious of Sin
Oh God, I am conscious of sin
It tells me what I've been
A sense of shame I feel
My knees I want to kneel
Help me to confess
And clear out all these mess
That I can be strong and true
That I can be one with You!
-01/16/204
(Dumarao)
*My Prayer Poems Collection
Oh, come now - since life is full of care
and the woodland path is wanting wear;
and the trees of spring must needs be seen
as winter’s grey is sprayed with green.
Van dyke said: ‘walk a mile with me’,
but let us go further and then we’ll see
how the foot is connected to the jaw and tongue
and the track can move the lip and lung.
We’ll tread pleasantries and leave them behind.
As amble turns ramble, we’ll clear out our mind
of piffle and fluff - chit-chat and chatter -
and at last get to speaking of the things that matter.
Gasping with effort, we’ll listen to the other;
clarify our reasons and, when home, discover -
though the debate and the way were difficult and rough -
we’ll agree we have not yet walked quite enough.
Wait up, don’t close just yet
I’m about to have one more, and I’ll leave
I can’t have it at home, it tastes different
Drinking at home is more depressing
Seems like it's been a slow night today
Or is it me that feels like you're closing early
Oh, wait, what's the time
Aaah, I didn’t notice it's already late
It's just that I can’t go home alone
I’m all alone, all the kids have grown now
No one ever tells you it will get lonely
And no one ever tells you the calls keep dying down
I feel like they call to see if I’m already gone
So that they can come clear out
I barely see my grandkids these days
They’re all grown too
It’s just the occasional conversations
At least here I talk to the locals
You see, John just recently got married
Got to find out via last week’s mail
They told me I should stop drinking
But how can I while this is my happy place
At least I got friends, and I don’t stay home all cooped up
And it don't want to wallow
Wait up, I’ll help close up
I’m leaving anyway
Cause I can’t walk, I’ll need help getting home
And you guys just stay further down the road
The PO£T
A new proud king of
forest had new dream-
dream of being in
history, till books
become history
He welcomed next day's
Sun with new vigor,
made rules in jiffy
ruling, ruled and rules
had to follow sure
clawed, hoofed, webbed, toed, heeled
all to offer part
of whatever chewed
lesser things to give
part of little haves
earthworms, termites, ants
millipedes, snails, worms
should clear out, too soon
king liked forest floor
to be tidy clean
trees of aged wisdom
stood in stun silence
feared to give advice
so they learn to wait
as king waits to learn
BLUE CHEESE AND OLD PICKLES
Looking back at the decades gone by
Over the wall at hammers and sickles
Berlin with a certain oldworld appeal
Just the setting for spy novels, I feel
For me, blue cheese and old pickles
A ‘60s memory that’s now gone dry
Blue cheese veins, a suggestion of age
Old pickles in vinegar make me wince
Some say they all were different times
With the red versus blue secret crimes
But has remained unsettled, ever since
If reading history, seeing the next page
As the bear wakes, an eagle flies again
But glancing over a different shoulder
Only across oceans and never a bridge
Is it now time to clear out that fridge
Threats of war both hotter and colder
Yet nervous tension will always remain
Cheese may leave a tang in the throat
Especially if they’re considered as blue
Pickles are always sharp on the tongue
But was that a dirge that I heard sung
Perhaps it is time to know what’s true
And ignore what all the papers wrote
Alert the authorities
Everybody properly dresses
Dependents are priorities
Pilot light distinguishes
Ready pets safe
Chemical fire extinguishes
Clear out exits
Examine any irregularities
Everybody out safe
Follow down the garden path
That leads to inner peace.
Plant the seeds of gratitude.
Indulge your best caprice.
Simplify each ritual.
Improve the whole routine.
Stay flexible and balanced.
Fold the laundry once it’s clean.
Clear out all the clutter.
Dust the cobwebs. Brush the cat.
Forgive the unforgiven.
Hand it over; pass the hat.
Appreciate the glories
That reside beneath the sun.
And silence all the thunder guns,
Yes, each and every one.
Chet wore his plaid pants up to his pencil protector
People ran from the cafeteria when they saw him
He was an incessant talker
Never let anyone else speak
We have all been cornered by him
His prattle is boring; scientific crap
Stuff none of us care about
Quantum physics, montum shizzicks,
We don’t even believe in whatever it is
We are from the Midwest
in a town of two thousand
He may be my cousin, but I am the first to say
Clear out of the way, I have to get out of here
He is an educated idiot
Spewing facts right and left
Over our heads they go, bouncing round the walls
flicking into the furniture like bullets
No one is interested!
We back up as he edges into our personal space
He has no boundaries,
it is all about him
and it is annoying
to those of us who
have a life.
Let us talk like strangers,
And clear out the air.
Whatever has happened between us,
Let us forget and not point a chair.
Let us not pinpoint
The mischievous brain of ours,
Who was unsuccessfully successful
In drifting us apart.
Hi its me Saswat.
That guy, who used to sit behind you
When no one else wanted to.
who just took off late at night,
On the scooter with all his fears,
Just to fulfill your wishes and desires to name a few.
I don’t regret the marks of the belt on my body,
Or the scratches on the scooter which could have turned bloody.
Nevertheless its good to know,
That you are at least reading this,
Because its been years since you might have even thought of me.
Despite of all the people who were involved,
All those who prayed for us to be apart.
Somehow there’s something,
Something that’s keeping me alive,
to look at your face and roll a dice.
Gamble with none, betting your fragrance
Hoping to recite this in person,
When you wear your wedding attire.
Some see a scrubby, stunted wood;
the pure heart sees a pond.
A vision cast into the could -
the gift to look beyond…
And though the plan has not converged
quite fully in my head,
I simply can’t resist the urge
to rend, uproot, and shred.
Reclaiming bits of Eden, I
clear out the brambled vines.
Creation and destruction, by
this, briefly are aligned.
CONVENIENTLY ABSENT
You sit alone, neglected,
In your study-room, day after day,
Well of tears drains away,
Spirit of life, parched for lack of sustenance,
Turned off, sounds of harmony, rhythm,
Place, devoid of meaning.
They, once hearth and home,
Drove you out into barred solitude
Under the same roof
On separate, adjacent lines.
No longer loved as yourself,
Become a living scandal
To strangers in your midst,
Today conveniently absent,
At work or school or church.
Now prepared with care, the means of exit,
Nothing left to chance or change of mind,
Letter lies open, clear - out on the desk,
They may read its explanation,
Take note or pretend it never appeared at their home.
You rise from your seat, irksomely comfortable,
With steel-eyed resolve possessed,
All done as planned, gathering journey’s materials,
Leave space to descend dim-lit stairs
Into a sudden, self-created vacuum.
Graceful you are as a flight of angels,
Moving through to the empty garage.
Armed stool waits patiently for you
From the midst of an unseen circle of fire,
To step into the hollow breach and fall.
Near you I forgot it all;
‘Adhere to your rules.’ I say;
Clear out all the confusion,
steer hard you’re going astray;
Tonight you feel like a magnet
despite what I know is true;
Right never comes from left field,
might not matter, all I want is you.
clean out
the closet
and unhook your woes
from all hangers.
all are much too soiled
to be worn
by your disillusioned heart.
sweep up the debris
and clear out
the heaping pile
of suppressed pain
and untrustworthiness
taking up
all the space
in your broken heart
to create enough room
to let people in
once again,
for love's light
to shine through.
Second Chance For Your N-A Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written: 06/19/2022
Out with infighting and lack of general respect,
Let’s restore our Congressional reputation
Rank partisanship and grandstanding
While padding their own coffers, I expect!
Let’s rid ourselves of all the current trolls
“Let’s throw the bums out,” it has been said,
Not a one of them worth saving, I suspect.
Better off with zombies at the controls.
Let’s start by ditching Mitch; Pelosi, too,
Right down to the bottom of the barrel
Grifters, the shysters, and arrogant fools
Send McCarthy and Schumer to Timbuktu.
Greene, and Gaetz, and dummy Gohmert
Publicity hounds and holier-than-thous
Let’s start with a clean slate this year
Out with Cruz, Cotton, and Lauren Boebert.
Repubs and Dems—all those fat cats alike,
We need to start with a clean slate now
Hire those who will make government run
Let’s tell Madison Cawthorn to take a hike.
All of them! – I’ve just named a very few
But I can’t think of a single one I’d keep,
Clear out the entire House and the Senate
We need to clean up this despicable zoo!
HONORABLE MENTION
"Religion or Politics No. 7" Poetry Contest
All Poetry.com
April 24, 2022
Written April 9, 2022
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