The complex secret of life
is simplicity itself:
you're born, you live and you die.
It is a well-thumbed book with
incomprehensible text
which you borrow, you read and
then pass it on to the next.
Jon asked the prof a simple question
His answer, shot back, “It’s complex”
Jon followed up with “Look, I pay $99.9k a year to go here”
Prof's answer, easy over, “That’s why we serve 100-proof beer”
Cowards are those who resort to violence.
And cowards are those who hide behind silence.
Violence seekers try to conceal a complex.
And want to show off how their muscles flex.
Silence embracers try to cope with a weakness.
And live in unfathomable bleakness.
Why don’t people act humbly and sensibly
So that others keep their dignity and live happily?
Why do they have to disguise their flaws with arrogance?
And why do the aggressed show a lot of patience?
Both parties are to blame for their cowardice
If not treated respectfully, people should act with competence.
The shame of shaken soldiers
runs
deeper than any ka-bar cut;
il cuore's battle-cries drowned
out by trains carrying boxes
that will contain them —
one day,
if they're lucky
Gli occhi dell'amore
crashed into reinforced glass
when she met the war-child's gaze —
"Is he cruel or courageous?,"
she asked, retreating
across the battlefield
"Is he cowardly or compassionate?,"
her morbid mind drifting
Peace has weakened me —
power taken, slow death
pain trapped, slow death
praise tainted, slow death
pieced together, slow death —
Apocalypse waiting for
the bliss of war;
sociable metal in the hands of
humans playing heroes and villains,
gods and devils
For all the girls in Potchefstroom
I am the Protea of Potchefstroom, a firce,
firm, frankly ferocious fortress of female force
I am a relic of Rhenosterfontein royalty, a robust, resilient, regal ruler of the landscape.
My heart is made of unbreakable stone, yet I
nourish all who come into my powerful, protective orbit.
My leaves are sharper than wit, and my beauty cuts right to the core of your very soul.
I am the definite determined, dazzling diamond in Potchefstroom's strong, serene crown.
If you are unwilling to be a predator,
and also unwilling to be prey,
what then, are you willing to Be...
I will to be Self...
What is Self...
Self is to be Creator...
What are you creating...
I am creating justifiable reason...
So to do what...
To live beyond ignorance,
to know and love why I am,
to create through honest awareness...
Can you create survival...
I create desire for Life,
I create and share meaning with Life,
to survive without grace is grey death...
Do you have a God complex...
I have a heart complex
that God gave me
before I learned that love could be painful...
Have you put your trust in God...
I have put God in my heart...
J.A.B.
I've met many people in life
Maybe not a lot but sufficient enough to understand
that the one who sticks around is a friend
the one who cares when nobody does is a friend
the one who feels like home is a friend
But lately I've come to see a truth I missed,
that the place where huge smiles would bloom
lies hidden beneath a thin veneer, their gloom
We never really engaged in a fight- lucky I guessed,
but I was wrong because their emotions were never meant to be truly expressed
We still walk side by side, sharing our moments everyday- yet still feel so drained
That's ironic because real ones stay the same even after times have changed.
I'm beyond done figuring out this complexity around,
but now more grateful to god for the few true gems I found.
Was it off-white?
A cavity on the hem of my socks
Undulation,but palpably grazed
like the letters you never unfastened
I set sail for my untrimmed toenails
A cavity on the edge of my nail plate
“Ma, its uneven”
Notes, chords, and bolted doors
Inaudible, I pulled more thread
Attenuated, I pulled
The darkest possible color
Reached my wavering fingers
“Ma, it wouldn’t look good”
Chortled, was something funny?
I couldn't catch it
“Ma…my needle broke”
Rainbows glimmered after a laugh
I'm thirsty
My sock is missing
Two large figures left the room
Loose clothes
And covered feet
“Ma, my thread is thin”
We flirted simply with our eyes,
never really needing to touch.
Kissed each other like butterflies,
when wind whistles gentle and such.
It really doesn’t take that much,
now we’re trading milkshakes for sex.
Lips always come through in a clutch,
lust at its core is not complex.
I am simple yet complex in my simplicity;
I have many masks and facets,
and will wear a multitude of hats.
I show the me I need you to see,
you'll never know the whole of me.
I am the person I want you to see
and am only satisfied if you're baffled
by the multiplicity of me.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on July 24, 2025 for contest MULTIPLICITY OF THE SELF sponsored by ALICE REYNOLDS
a few heavy raindrops
bathed happily dancing
in my garden's bird bath
It seems like the old you and now are different.
The smile that reflects in your eyes is no longer the same.
Hair that flips when you walk is no longer shiny,
Tired eyes and body want to fight, but they're too skinny.
The old you that laughed genuinely,
A smile that made your cheeks feel chubby.
A walk that looked comfy and funny,
Not bothering if you were sometimes clumsy.
The old stresses were inevitable,
Anxiety that couldn’t just be a bubble.
Tears that fall are untouchable,
Still, the answers are questionable.
The scars of hurt are still in trouble,
Even when you used to be humble.
There’s a time when you're not stable,
You cry and break down, feeling unable.
It’s not the same anymore,
You have to deal with the unending sore.
Wipe the tears and stand up tall,
Feel the pain but fight again, even if you fall.
If I Lived with them,
I never really grasp
the complexity...
CHAMCHA bowls low, his tongue sharp and slick,
OUTWASH of virtue, a torrent too quick.
MEDEVAC soars through chaos and strife,
PHELLEM guards trees, as bark shields its life.
LEUCOMA, the veil dims visions once bright,
EPITAPH whispers of days lost to night.
XANTHIC hues glow, a promise of light.
Find me in the midst of my madness
Pull me out of the fog and wipe the mist from my eyes
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