Allow the destruction.
Surrender to the hurt.
Loss will show no mercy.
Stripped down; raw form. Exposed.
Face contorts. Punctured chest.
Descent into abyss.
Demise precedes rebirth.
*'LET'S SOAR WITH THIS' Poetry Contest
*Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
*Entered on: 9/18/25
Laws over user
Response in violation
I'ma violation of code?
Next sentence no jury
Immediately I lost control
Living is leaving without doors
Pre eminent domain the framers
Constitution
An earth in form
Assembled infantry
Order duty
Follow document
Intercept
Floored
Rent a right
Ambition dollar
Our articulate article
Misses print
Who sided with before, controversial
Higher orders, adjunct military professor of law
Stilled the fix of formatted text
The preferential abandon as treatment
Treat men
War with a battlefield of dying poor
My published records of ink in light
Stopped by outsiders having wishes of rewrite French crime
Penny contorts interest
Depriving satisfaction
Kreb a bus
Now undefine the cost of that writers right
In this absence if article documenting times
How is one literal
Naked, in your hatred, you daily bask
Your face contorts into a feral mask
As for the good friend that I've known so long
Alas, for now, all humanity gone
Count your fingers and toes!
It's five that drives betides!
For our minds can't juggle
More than five at once.
Can't grip, grasp sense - six.
How we sense and perceive,
Also comes in five flavors.
Touch, sight, smell, taste, hearing,
Which constrains, contorts our thoughts,
Into believing we know what's
Right, true, all so insightful!
But, why or why five?
Has ego, fear, doubt, desire
Succumbed to fingers and toes?
So we can't go further
Than a high fivefold dive?
The pain is all I feel
I cannot see
I cannot move
I cannot breathe
It contorts as a dark entity trapped within me
Writhing, screaming, clawing at my heart
I cannot stop feeling
I cannot ignore it
I cannot turn it off
A persistent, agonizing, longing refuses to leave
Fissures of hopelessness brand my soul
Wider. Longer. Deeper
I cannot contain it
I cannot cover it
I cannot hide it
I am pain. Pain is me.
It will be the death of me.
Monstrous faith,
Blasphemous state,
Cursed to a Lazarous fate.
Phoenix ashes tracing a Brownian route,
Genie dances with an ambient view.
Casting spells where destiny brews,
Crafting cells where reason skews.
Factual sprawls as time distorts,
Actual flaws that time contorts.
A paradox script the cosmos writes,
A Faraday cage,our fate locked tight.
What is this love we seek to find and hold?
It twists and contorts, resistant to enfold.
A surprising elusive shadow, that pops up from the mist?
When we least expect it, to enlist when kissed.
This love actually, defies logic and common sense!
For whom we love, truly deeply is beyond any pretense,
Any hope that its stickiness can be shed,
With a flick, a kick, a denial, once, twice said.
Love is persistent, won't go away, or fade.
Its inception is the exception that once made,
Is burned or carved into a tree trunk or rock,
As an emblem, a shout, broadcast around the clock.
For love is a joy, a delightful happenstance!
A meeting by chance, then with poise, to prance and dance.
On a misty, foggy October morning
a low, cold wind spreads the smell of burning bark
slashed from our forest trees.
As the haze builds
the town contorts into Sleepy Hollow,
now the Headless Horse Man is expected to follow.
There, falls the sounds of dew and rain
and the birds that begin to awake
but the leaves and the trees are as still as can be.
Through the misty dew can I still see
the red and the orange and the green
of falls changing leaves.
Then I check my calendar screen
for the end of Summertime creeps
ironically on Monday's eve
wrenching us into the season of Hallows Eve.
As we age
and even sometimes
throughout our youth,
we imagine so much
of what life should have given us
or does
the mind plays a little game
fading in and out
vague hopes and dreams
This could have been
twists and contorts
the happenstance and circumstances
of just how life flowed
with our wants and desires
and our needs
here, now, comes the memories
we always wanted
as they should be.
History is in your hands—President Biden
We fight to defend our freedom and democracy against the banana Republicans who have converted Lincoln's Party into a dangerous cult of personality—Jamie Raskin
Trump has a rap sheet—Jasmine Crockett
Freedom Minichu
in a democracy
it’s said politics is the art of compromise
papacy
when truth contorts
when God fearing fascists arise
blood sports!
donkeys
freedoms demise
pleas!
in a democracy
when God fearing fascists arise
pleas!
ON MY MIND
You are or were, always on my mind
Like a backdrop to all my thoughts
To have lost you now, I am resigned
My world is now ones and noughts
Another such as you I will never find
A shame how every memory distorts
Still having no satisfaction of any kind
As I ignore all those spurious reports
Of someone who once left me behind
My brain freezes as my heart contorts
But they always told me love was blind
As I saw a diamond without any faults
His love is strong and wild
He will always be her guide
He will take her hand in the toughest times
He will never leave her side
For his love is everlasting
Inside her soul she will know
No matter where she travels
That's just where He will go
He will always bring a warm smile
He will always hold her tight
He will gather up all the sunshine
and shine on her at night
He will always be her comfort
He will take away her fear
Even when far away he is
Shell always know he's near
When his eyes close at night
She's all that's in his thoughts
The moment again his eyes gain sight
His brain again contorts
As long as its for him she cares
He will always support her wishes
He will follow her anywhere
and even do the dishes
She found her man he did exist
To leave her he will never
As long as the sunshine shines on earth
His love remains forever
Trapped inside a wasteland,
dying inch by inch
Slave inside a rusted heart,
feelings chained then lynched
Later now than yesterday,
earlier than goodbye
Spooled like thread that can’t be sewn,
the needle asking why
But time contorts, reversing,
trumpets call you home
Eyes unspoken, voice untouched,
senses all atoned
Words on fire with freedom stirred,
reasons scorched and bare
A silence brewing louder,
new light burns through the air
Eleven Angels fly as one,
and twelfth, you join their throng
With wings now soaring inward
—time’s grip left dead and gone
(Airplane To Seattle: March 8, 2017)
Where the black berates the whites
and barricades are crossed
that colour without
when rain gathers for release
like a slightly grubby fleece
that squelchy grey that matters
the outsider that pines for other hues
the memory it confused
Shadow contorts its form
intense in its opinion
bland has joined the band
The future aint bright
its lazing in the shades
You have lost yourself, expressed the moon figure.
You may wear a veil if you are not sure of your ardor
You are a shadow falling through the vast fire.
Sadly, nobody knows what your identity is, however.
You are an alien to yourself, they said again and again.
Where do I fit in case I'm living without a name?
I don't realize where I belong on this dead earth then.
Alone I'm utterly lost as for who I'm caring of or aim.
Dweller contorts your body and torments your head.
When you break the law, the fallen devils follow you.
No one knows you since they lived in your mind.
You are an alien to you, yet much you can pursue.
In the womb, you were a beating dot blind.
And you're gazing at a white shroud, bind.
Written August 24, 2021
For “Why Am I Me?” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Shreya LN
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