If I could tell
About the faces that haunt me
If I could tell
About the eyes filled with sadness
If I could tell
About the screams echoing in my head
If I could tell
But the words remain elusive
Like butterflies in the summer breeze
They escape fly away from me
Why should they want to stay here in this darkness
Give me rest
Who would understand what I say
Unless they could remember
A time when fear overwhelmed them
Or the moment they killed a man
And saw the light leave his eyes
There is no need to tell
No one is listening
Everyone is fond of the summer season
some just can't get enough of that sun
they travel worldwide to gain its rays
but the other seasons are required as one
Now here's a thought to ponder upon
what if summer lasted all year long
just imagine having continuous sunshine
our hearts would be filled with joyful songs
Children would want extra long holidays
even they could have classes held outside
more fun to learn about nature
sometimes summer rain keeps us inside
Now what if summer ended for good
and worst of all, winter lasted the year
nothing but cold, snow and ice
perish the thought, for it fills with fear
The heavy coats and gloves are on
never to take off at any time
well, maybe we'll stick to the four seasons
so ideal really, to keep us in our prime
translate love into food,
into money that matters,
into health that lasts,
into substantial living
not the charade of wealth
that floats away
on crimson wings
I am still here!
Alive is more
than a five-letter-word
I don’t know the birds
I don’t know the rocks
I didn’t know how hard
life would get
until I was in the middle of it
A mountain of lies
a river of debt
The hurricane's eye?
How much worse could it get
And then she uncovered
a mistress and lover
On her way to discover ~
why she would never recover
the ribbon loosens
from the box’s bent lid,
its faded fibers
fraying at the fold.
paper edges lift~
soft seams separating,
corners curling
into their own collapse.
inside, a small silver pin
dims in the dust,
carrying what time
could not keep.
A blanket of cloud stretches
Obscures, keeps us blind
But I like to think there could be dragons
Flying just behind
Beyond the hefty, leaden skies
That endless cloak of grey
Brightly coloured reptiles
Might romp around and play
The weather here is usually
Dull and overcast
The valley stays in shadow
But if we could just see past
We might catch a glimpse of fire
Beyond that drab cloud cover
Dragons doing somersaults
Swooping with each other
There could be dragons behind the clouds
Maybe not, I wouldn’t know
Isn’t it nice to think
That they could be up there, though
.
exspecially yet
springtime
summertime
shnap
*shnap; thuh sound uv edvard'z neck
when hiz hand caught en cook'ie
jar ')> whut
Kansas winds tried to whisk her all the way to Emerald City
She was a fragile-looking girl, but resolute, and resilient
Nothing could budge her from her self-appointed spot
The tornado sent a derecho, but even that was not enough
they could not move, budge, knock over or knock down this sprite
She had a mind that kept her upright, on her guard and on her toes.
This old lighthouse wants to say,
about the cold clouds of gray.
When it rained all night and day,
with the keeper wanting to pray.
Then the sun would come out to play,
making the blue sea a pretty highway.
This old lighthouse saw many ships,
some sailed by and some smashed like a souffle.
Sailing by were many birds of prey,
telling the old lighthouse it was like a cast away.
Old lighthouse even on Christmas day,
I can not getaway.
For the old lighthouse and keeper was it judgment day?
Why did the keeper want to stay?
Why not just run away?
The keeper knew he could not leave ~ no way,
telling God they both were not a runway.
He nearly lost it all.
He suddenly snapped and lost his way.
Friends came through that day.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2026
I protect it at all costs
It is the core of who I am.
It's been lost and it's been found
It's been whole and its been ground.
Could anyone, want my heart?
I guard it constantly
And keep vigilant always.
It's been alone and it's been chosen
It's been hot and it's been frozen.
Can I let anyone see my heart?
I cover it with fears
And worry who will know it.
It's been a liar and it's been true
It's been foolish and it's been shrewed.
Would anyone, trust my heart?
I hold it tight in trepidation
Unsure what wind will sway it.
It's been solid, and it's been mist
It's been stabbed and it's been kissed.
Does anyone want my kaleidoscope heart?
I ache for someone to sooth it
Who is willing to fully accept it?
It's been innocent and it's been guilty
It's been pure and it's been filthy
Desperately wicked, who can know it?
In surrender, I met a Healer
Who made white, my wretched stains.
I've been lost and now I'm found
I've been dead, now glory bound
Since I gave my heart to Jesus.
How surprising to find flesh
Where my heart should be stone
Indeed, it pounds for two loves
Only she is left here to hear it
Yet I’ve swallowed my heart
Even that day when she left
She was so close
And I could say nothing
I obsessively kept every rule
But now what good is caution
If it leaves so much unsaid?
I’ll remember all I didn’t say
If only he were so near
As some measure of miles
But I must measure that distance in years
Maybe 60 or so if I can endure it…
But 800 miles can be covered by post
So I must tell her!
What cowardice has stayed me?
Even knowing how silences linger
I have mended my heart once before
And I promised not to do this again
She lives. I love
I know I must tell her.
I wish
I had the words
and that
I could tell you
why
how
but like the blades in my throat
I cannot
I can only write it in my note
and hope
that one day
they’ll say
what I never could.
Wish I could write
something to your liking --
but poetry writes itself
would like to author
a book verse, to become
staple on every book
shelf
but poetry writes itself
would like to go before
God some day~ say
look at all I have done!
Only to hear God reply:
Poetry won My Son….
COULD YOU TRUST THIS MAN
TRUMP WITH THE FACE PAINTED TAN
YOU THINK IRAN CAN
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