want write poems that not
bout politics life's weighty
absurdities death's grip all
simple poems contentment
son's enthusiasm energy
wife's cooking heroic endurance
kitten's bouncing curiosity
old cat's slowing solitude
dog praying hard reform
colors fall newness spring
mowing leaves grass gazing
on in forest looking beyond
tree tops lake mirage day
venus mars night
bach lifting toward
mozart floating down
heaven singing love conquering
fulfilled voluntary unions bodies
cooperation nations peace
strength through peace soul society
treading softly near edge
old habit making safe path
some sweet day will
Pets Poetry Contest // Sponsored by: Rob Carmack
( 9th Place )
Written: September 02, 2025
He waits at the edge of morning,
ears angled toward a distant sound.
A single breath, a quiet length
then he bounds, unstoppable
through the thin gold sliver of sunlight
that slips underneath the door.
His eyes bring the weight of wonder:
Each step a question, a story.
The flick of his tail is a language of love.
cherishing quiet contentment.
I kneel and he rests in...
A soft warmth burning against my hand
and for a fleeting, perfect heartbeat
the world is nothing but fur,
sunlight and the trust
that lives in the spaces between.
Every flick of his tail brings
a story only our hearts recall.
Why should they waste time walking in the mall
Wishing for things they want but cannot get
When they could be happy and feel ten feet tall
With a plump wallet and freedom from debt.
A paycheck should cover necessities such as food and rent,
Savings come with a budget, it results in cash well spent,
Always shop wisely, especially when down to your last cent,
It's a little known truth: one can find pleasure in contentment.
As I rise,
The moon falls
The wind settles
The lake follows
The sand shimmers
The earth softens
The stars dampen and
The buildings brighten,
A tree houses
A bird swooshes
A flower opens
A fish swims
A weed dances
A squirrel eats and
A duck dips,
A man hurries to work
A woman runs on the boardwalk
A grandfather grabs the paper
A boy hides from me
A girl giggles on the swings
A bell ushers kids away and\
A bike lane grows heavy,
This place,
So full with life
Racks the minutes, hours, days, years,
Peacefully, quietly, beautifully--
Existing with incredible happenings;
Splendors and revelations,
Dark funerals and ‘happy birthdays’,
Joyous jubilations and lonely mornings,
Yellow hellos and red goodbyes,
Tired people and busy minds.
Perpetual, like that grandfather clock in the apartment with the too-thin walls;
As unchanging as the oak tree outside of the tiny bungalow on the corner street by the beach.
And as I set and rise everyday to do the same 24-hour shift,
I do not complain about the similar views, or the boring minutes,
I do not crave the hours in darkness,
I accept the unthanked labor—
I watch.
I listen.
I exist.
L-ife
I-n
N-ew
Z-ealand
E-mbraces
V-ery
I-deal
L-iving
L-ike
A-ll
F-amilies
L-ove
O-utdoor
R-elaxation
©bfa060725
Monocrostic (Birthday of Linze C. Villaflor)
With eagerness I make my way to my favorite place
Where gratitude floats freely above every head
Where happiness is the coverlet that embraces each bed
Where laughter is contagious and strikes the young and old
Where love is a daily garment that adorns every soul
Where joy is a feather that nudges all to soar
Where the house of contentment has a welcoming door
This is my favorite place
Giants creep through disguised as trees.
Tiptoeing by the ancients asleep underneath.
A deep slumber echoes from the ground.
A blanket of silence filters the sound.
The mist rolls in and the forest takes a breath.
A crow takes flight and comes to a rest.
This mossy rock becomes my throne
In the center of my newly found home.
My spirit wanders, and I wonder,
What could ever pull me under?
The dragon raises his lazy head.
The cave has collapsed and the knight is dead.
It is all a battle to stay afloat.
To be the one with the strongest boat.
The storm rolls in and takes us all.
Some of us are likely to survive the fall.
Footprints fade along the shore.
The next adventure begs to be born.
Breathe the frozen air and let it burn.
Stitch together the pattern of what we have learned.
Roll the fabric and put it away.
They are just maps to treasures within my brain.
I had overeaten.
So I reached inside myself
And pulled up whatever could be pulled up
From strength that I could muster up
I labored long and hard
And eventually brought forth
Snow capped mountains
And sky scrapers dignified by the rays of the sun
And the tallest pines with cones intact
And stars draped with clouds, silver lined
And song birds with half-sung melodies resting on their beaks
And butterflies with awe-inspiring wings, extended and poised for flight
And rainbows that captured the very essence of past promises.
Exhilarated and exhausted, I wept
Not due to any emptiness or lack
But due to the incredible, unspeakable beauty of the lone rose
That remained anchored to my innermost parts.
I was spent but at peace
"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."
— Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene V
Some are born to crowns and gold,
With power strong and wealth untold.
Some will climb, with sweat and pain,
To carve their names and stake their claim.
And then there’s me—a simple bloke,
Who’d rather nap than wear a cloak.
Greatness came, it knocked, it screamed,
I locked the door—it must have dreamed.
For who would trade a peaceful life,
For throne-room squabbles, royal strife?
Give me books, a pint, some cheese—
Let others rule, I’ll take my ease.
So take your greatness, shove it far,
I’d rather be right where I are.
Fresh ocean air
Oh, take me there!
To the place below the hill
Three hundred years
I hold it dear
Ancestors can be felt still
For all I've roamed
My heart knows home
And it cannot get it's fill
How does it long!
For ancient song
And the view from mine own sill
A seat of peace
My mind's at ease
Oh, the terrors a place can kill
Soon I'll return
All else to burn
And allow my heart to spill
Not all inherit a father's noble name,
Some learn deceit, others theft, and shame.
But I, blessed with a virtuous sire,
Inherited values that my heart desires.
My children will learn to reverence age,
With humility and sobriety, they'll engage.
A caring heart, I'll pass on to them,
Diligence and God-fearing, their guiding gem.
Emancipator, Eldorado, Ephaptha too,
Will learn the core values, integrity shines through.
Estevan and Estefan, honesty and love,
Will be their guiding principles, sent from above.
I'll uphold godliness with contentment true,
A legacy of virtue, forever shining through.
How dare I seek for validation
Longing for something more.
I only deserve my own damnation
Why do I need an open door.
Why would I ever need a toast
Who ever heard of me.
What do I even have to boast
What more could I really need.
They ask me "Why the cruel ambition?
Don't you have enough?
With your rags and pain and social division
What more do you want? Love?"
At night, death's dark whisper resounds
Chasing dreams, with bloody sweat unbound
Awakened by fear, his heart does pound
Beholding death's spirit, all around
By day, sleep flees, a rare reprieve
For he has slain it, with restless grief
A little slumber, a shout of doom
Forever haunted, a troubled tomb
Through "Baba Gbonka's" dark, deceitful gate
He sought wealth's shortcut, a fatal weight
Riches accrued, but health did flee
Mansions built, yet comfortless, he'll be
Luxury furniture, a hollow pride
Restricted to a mat, where he must reside
Strangers receive his charitable hand
But relatives, a forbidden land
Conditioned to spend, with daily strife
No peace, until his target meets life
Marriage yes, but children, a denied bliss
What's affluence without peace, but an empty kiss?
Who shall inherit all his earthly gain?
To what account, when his soul's laid to rest in pain?
The scripture says, "Godliness with contentment's the gain"
A truth he forgot, in wealth's vain, hallow reign
A jolly mind delights in acquiring knowledge,
a cheerful heart dances to the rhythm of flapping leaflets.
The pleasure of learning new things,
the satisfaction in doing what you love,
the bliss of your soaring knowledge,
the exhilaration that sends you straight to the high-heavens,
the overwhelming contentment of being in the cusp of literacy,
the contentment of being an erudite.
The heart sings in delight,
your mind sighs in euphory,
your whole being engulfed in overwhelming satisfaction.
Looking out of the window,
Staring into droplets of rain
Drawing patterns of emptiness
on my window panes…
I try to comprehend,
The very meaning of life
When all I could think of is
‘Sans,’ ‘sans,’ and ‘sans.”
Weirdly enough,
To my own dismay,
I am content by the very non-existence
of any meaning to life.
The void makes me delighted.
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