"I write from the core-
A mythic- street voice imprinted
From lived truth.
Shawdows and light footpaths walks with
Me;
I turn experiences into pulsation
Mental image into momentum,
Silence into something that
Share ideas.
My lines carry fortitude and grace,
Syllabary rising from the everyday
Rhythm shaped by subsistence,
Imagery born from what the
World trained me.
I am a writer of volume,
A poet of emotional transparency,
Building architecture from pain,
Alchemy from the imperfect,
And fire from the spaces I refused to fold.
This is my terrain-
Where honesty stands towering,
Where spirit threads through the grout,
Where every poem is a step evolved
From everything I've lived and everything
I'm becoming."
Nailing those drama queen moves
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Hatred, see the world with love?
Sure. That can't be helped.
Agony, arc. O alcove:
Wendigo is whelped.
Sickening loss, tempest toss.
Hard work, go to waste.
No use hanging on the cross!
Bitter is the taste!
Caiman, the gulf floor. Abhor?
Oh, good sir, you bet.
O computer, where's the door?
Aren't we fancy-fret.
Thrashing round the thresher?
O chaff blue, from brown grain.
Cannibal, refresher?
That flesh, sir! Deign to drain!
Red mountain, yellow forest.
Wild will be that fire.
Lava, ignite. Pray, poor pest.
Sad thy sprawling sire.
Parents, clutch thy offspring?
We do the best we can.
Sacrosanct? Sick? Silvering?
Reconcile run? Ran.
Ghastly gale. Green gibbous glow.
Cobalt blue bad moon.
Captive, open door. Let's go?
Well, it's none too soon.
Tiny crosses. Metal.
They fell straight from the sky.
On that cliff? Gas pedal!
Eternity, odd eye...
thoughts like parachutes
open in clouds floating by
colourful strings r..a..i..n
cells dissolve in air
wide parachutes pause pink
red green umbrellas
core is parachute
opens in multi-colour
rainbow becomes K ** I** T ** E
~~~~~~ flyaway ~~~~~~
my precise compass points to innermost heart
a microcosmic myrtle of macrocosm art
I journey inward this core, where lies my
Tree of Life ____
tasting amber resonance of Self’s sap
it cradles spirit, now a blissed viburnum
spaceless space kisses,
olive is ocarina enchanting,
enthralling, embracing
earth and heaven ~ discerning,
lemon heathered ____a garden
Core imbues form with ineffable frequencies
elusive is a holly terminal
spirit discerns tree’s essence,
agape agapanthus caped appears
belled garden knows
own’s every oak throb
benevolent bonafide biome,
pulsing life force
animating Being’s fluids
in pond stillness
translucent lotus opens
sublime perfumed
destination to heart core costs zilch
no other station can compare !
I'm in a room where everyone is pouting on a Mask but I don't fit in because I'm not covering myself with one so everyone hates me for being real what they don't know is that the are too many different spirits in me. A personalty is constantly shifting. I'm the most Hamble but acts differently the next minute. As I move round, in and out of different rooms with each having masked faces i stumbled across one with out a Mask and I thought I found the one a soul mate just didn't know she was my cell mate she wore a the most perfect mask that you can't see with your naked eyes she was the Masked malice by the time I found out it was to late cos she had already stabed me in the back the moment I turned she had a bow with an arrow on fire pointing straight to my heart . It's funny cos I still thought she was playing even after the stabe in the back I still felt her now she has an arrow pointing at my heart but I smile and made the wrong move that is when the arrow pissed through the heart. At the moment of death i saw that angel I feel in love with but that was just a glimpse with the eye of death i saw through her and realised it was just Masked malice that I feel into
purple plum is sweet—
its peace ripens in tart skin,
when love softens core
to blush in understanding
that mercy is sweet-tart bled
Good and evil intertwine,
In body, soul, and mind divine.
Demon star and angel glow—
Which one are you? Do you know?
Good and evil, seldom clear,
Judged by others, praised or feared.
For even saints, when darkness creeps,
May hide the demons that they keep.
The darkness kept in plainest sight,
It creeps beneath the shining light.
What mask we wear, we’ll never know,
Are you friend—or are you foe?
Only time shall tell us so.
When the facade cracks and all things decay,
What shows the truest way?
Virtue of heaven, bright and clear,
Or sins of hell, bold and feared?
All things reviewed by the mirror’s core,
Revealing who we truly are, evermore.
Cold Core
?A quiet dread begins to settle near,
A sudden, cold assurance of the fright;
It is a heavy shadow, sharp and clear,
A fear that only waits until the night.
The door is locked, yet safety feels untrue,
The smallest sound will always pierce me through.
The devout, at their core, are poets,
Sailing on seas of faith, with no formulas.
In sacred books, their dreams are reflected,
In a world where mystery and the divine meet.
They dance to the verses of prayers and psalms,
In search of answers, with souls in their palms.
In the temple of the heart, they weave their dreams,
Where stars are angels, and the sky writes poems.
In each ritual, a verse is born,
In every song, a story is woven.
They see the divine in every falling leaf,
And hear the music of the heavens in every step they take.
Life's mystery, to them, is endless poetry,
A journey where the soul rises, unbroken.
The devout, at their core, are poets,
Living in a world where faith and art intertwine.
orchard in garden
yields bounteous ripe apples,
stem cell in seed is
a little bit of nothing -
willing self to be fulfilled
Hope began as a whisper,
curling across dark sea,
guiding my arrival,
to come see, and be.
Yet the gist was hollow,
empty to the core,
the rind of promise,
peeled off, fell down, to the floor.
The weight of empty words,
burned deep into my heart.
Cutting deeper than silence ever had,
because the promises were stone dead.
So my hope sits on edge,
waiting for a second coming.
An express fast delivery
right to my door, I'm pleading!
Gist 'twas Hollow,
right to the Core.
Gist 'twas Hollow,
right to the Core.
So my hope sits on edge,
waiting for a second coming.
An express fast delivery
right to my door, I'm pleading!
Rhythm, rhyme, and resonance.
Riddle, riffle through.
Red run roundabout? Last chance.
Buried deep in blue.
Stifle, sound of silence?
Better not ask why.
Victory bequeaths violence!
Somebody must die!
Pool up, silk thread, on my spool.
Thunder, fly at once.
Help the boy to keep it cool!
Goblin, grinning, guns!
Tyrant of the ancient waste?
How does success taste?
O ye virgins, art thou chaste?
Turkey legs a-baste!
Lobbied for, O hobby? When?
Now or then again?
Gods of death, a death! Try ten.
Dragon, from thy den...
Rattlesnake, thy timber.
Cone of volcano.
Hurry, Blizzard! Cause shiver!
Bloom, thy bungalow.
Dun the skies on Martian soil.
Fate, must we embroil?
O ye serpents, thus to coil!
Water hot to boil...
Figure eight? It's gotten late.
All men hate to wait.
Cross the desert or the strait?
Limestone gone to plate!0
I have nothing but open space on offer,
and even less to give
you mostly pass right through me,
Still my soul’s unshakable
so don’t treat me as your sieve
Scrapped slew of core concert memories,
they come back to me with an intro;
Set opens with that number one hit,
the crowd roars with the very first chord;
They come back to me with an intro,
taking me right back to that old tour;
The crowd roars with the very first chord,
tickets and wristbands capture the sound;
Taking me right back to that old tour,
endless lines and bustling adrenaline;
Tickets and wristbands capture the sound,
it gets pumped directly to my veins;
Endless lines and bustling adrenaline,
every nostalgic note comes flooding;
It gets pumped directly to my veins,
a portal to cut a rug through time;
Every nostalgic note comes flooding,
set opens with that number one hit;
A portal to cut a rug through time,
scrapped slew of core concert memories.
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