I'm in a wretched state of needing to seek serenity.
The chaos that surrounds me has gotten out of hand.
I've learned to treasure each stolen moment of solitude
when the outside world is most eagerly abandoned.
I draw the curtains and for at least a little while
I can pretend the universe is readjusted and aligned.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
The fortunes of love
deticated and kind
that she loves
Beyond reason or
Doubt
To which is certain
and to what it's
about
Might I stand before
all certain of you and I
That I am your lover
As time goes by
To not poute or grin
as uncertain
That you are mine
As actress and beyond
the curtain
Speak me yours
As such is beyond doubt
To speak with such assuranceies
And have no doubt
I am your man without
anything uncertain
To be actor and lover
Beyond the curtain
what else could happen? It is freezing outside
but look at the snow crystals grandma says
Someone yells for her to put the curtain down
They claim the cold air is getting in
I wander outside
wanting to get next to the beauty of winter
snow lightning makes my day!
I look on, reciting lines, reacting, responding,
the lights are dim, the stage is cold.
I dance across the scene, choreographed to my solitude,
hurt, tired, done, but I never stop.
Tears roll, screams echo, but I never stop.
I almost collapse, I can't go on, but I never stop.
I'm dead, my body rotting, but I never stop.
I look to my audience, my muse, my purpose,
I can't deny them, I have to please them,
Regardless of consequence, the show must go on.
I have been reduced to a corpse that has been revived,
revived for entertainment, for their amusement and amazement,
I can't refuse, I can't disobey, I am a slave to the arts.
I can still hear her, although I left her behind,
I can hear her, sobbing, pleading, begging me to stay.
Begging me to stay with her, to leave the cult in which I am trapped
I can still hear her, haunting me,
"The theatre is dark, the seats empty, the stage silent- so why are you still acting...?"
I hold my silence like a sword,
In battles no one sees me fight.
My tears are ghosts behind closed doors,
They only visit in the night.
A smile’s the armor that I wear,
Each laugh rehearsed, each word in line.
No one suspects, no one can stare
Into the cracks I call “I’m fine.”
My throat is raw from swallowed storms,
But still, I speak with steady grace.
I’ve learned to mimic human forms—
To leave no trace upon my face.
Not weakness, no—it’s self-defense,
A wall I built when I was small.
To cry is to invite suspense,
And risk the shame of letting fall.
So I retreat to silent rooms,
Where shadows are my only peers,
And let my grief bloom into fumes
In private pools of unshed tears.
You’ll never see the floods I hide,
The way I drown behind this screen.
I cannot let the world decide
What tender ever really means.
So if I break, I break alone—
No witness to the quiet war.
The world will never hear my moan,
Or find the softness at my core.
Staring at the mirror’s image,
I see what others see;
but can they see the need for love
so deep inside of me?
I hear my laughter just as loudly
as those who see my smile;
but can they hear the tinge of sadness
that lingers for awhile?
My posture mocks a stately stance,
my gait is smooth and free;
but can they see the frightened child
huddled down within me?
Afraid of life’s uncertainties,
unsure of what’s to come;
feigned confidence...a good disguise,
for fear has made me numb.
The routines I have mastered
like a scripted matinee,
but none see behind the curtain
at the closing of the day.
The props, all neatly put aside,
the makeup washed away,
my weary soul sleeps peacefully,
despite another day.
Tomorrow brings another chance
as I wait in the wings,
to take another curtain call
in the drama that life brings.
In the end
we die alone
In the end
no blade to hone
In the end
do Angel’s call
In the end
when rhythm stalls
In the end
which deck unstacks
In the end
our health attacked
In the end
we pray for more
In the end
but fate endures
In the end
one final change
In the end
whose face remains
In the end
the bonds break free
In the end
— one last decree
(Radnor Pennsylvania: May, 2025)
shield me from the world, my beautiful curtain,
shield me from prying eyes
shield me from the horrors of this universe,
and all their pretty lies.
the world sees how beautiful you are, my curtain,
they see how much i adore you.
they see your worth within your piece of cloth,
of flowers and textures through and through.
yet they don’t know the mess you hide inside,
they do not know the privacy you set apart.
you shield me from the world, my curtain,
but please do not shield me from your heart.
the world may just see your pretty patterns and colours,
but i want to see the home you made.
i want to see the beauty of the house that you built,
and the memories that you and i create.
petals opening
tuning fork humming of bees ~
a curtain raiser
Place: 3rd
Days when it rained
Tapping rhythm on the rooftop
The children stayed inside
And would put on
short plays
unscripted theatrical performances Impromptu entertainment
With a stage made of pillows
mismatched sheets for theater curtains
hung with wistful string
Costumes put together from past Halloweens.
Actors portraying vibrant quirky characters
The last curtain call
was many years ago
I still hear echoes of soliloquies
hysterical laughter and extended applause
Ringing from the past.
Now when it rains
The roof leaks tears
In the puddles left behind.
All that can be seen
Is the reflection of an old man.
JSB
When you don't know what to do.
Open this and it will speak to you!
Don't listen to a Religious man.
Get a translation you can understand.
In Luke's book 24:45 you will find.
Jesus had to open the Disciples minds!
Without God, you won't understand.
This book is His spiritual rescue plan.
We're born spiritually dead, alive in flesh.
About God and this life, we can only guess.
Hearing, seeing, smelling, touch and taste.
Yet spiritually blind, the whole human race.
In a physical plane that is finite too.
But an infinite spiritual world is all around you.
Jesus said he came to give sight to the blind.
He's called "The Word!" cause he'll open our mind.
Just pick this book up at least 30 minutes a day.
"Open my mind and heart!" is what you should pray!
Suddenly the plain words on the pages come alive.
And your spirit within begins to thrive!
You'll see things are deeper than they appear to be.
Because God will show you what the "Doubting World can't see.
Our minds are blinded due to our sins.
Just repent, ask God for help and they'll reopen again!
a woodpecker knocks
telling me morning is here
i bid her goodnight
Just the curtains veil from your window
Too dark only the omnipotent has great eyes
Vaguely so do I can't see you clearly through
Where soft comfort can't deny you simply lies.
I know how lonely you are inside with so much rage
Languishing in pain secretly others may not truly see
No courage to gain help to rescue like a bird in a cage
How life is innocuous not loved, helpless you can be.
I see no freedom from self-love, one-sided, egotistical
You torture yourself loving someone not loving you back
It's calamitous, dancing on your own is so hypocritical
Choosing love your own way, love isn't fair, a life-hack.
When will your head bump on the door, so you will know
That love isn't all that life may depress, you can move
Here outside, I'm thinking here how would I help you go
Be like a hero, comfort you inside or show you my love.
Under the veil of night, death is just a drawn curtain,
a dance of shadows that silently glides on walls,
we do not collapse all at once, but slowly disperse,
like autumn leaves carried by the wind into the unknown,
piece by piece, under the merciless cut of time,
a river that slowly spills into a sea of deep silence.
The young, these adventurers of untamed dreams,
die the hardest, yet live with an unquenchable fire,
the unknown is their friend, and truth, their guide,
they are the ones who give without asking for anything in return,
with open hearts, like comets streaking across the sky,
in a generosity that shines like stars in the night.
With every moment, we lose a drop of light,
like a candle burning down to the end of its wick,
but the young venture fearlessly into the unknown,
defying death with the smile of a new day,
for they know how to live or to die,
in a devotion that leaves a golden trace in our souls.
Thus, death turns into a mere echo,
a shadow dissolving in the light of dawn,
and life becomes a string of fragile and precious moments,
that burn, extinguish, and are reborn in the hearts of the young and ever-living.
do we want to know what’s behind
it - it the show, the drama, the comedy, the crown?
roll the tape, blind us
to the truth of the goofs
snapping turtles, caramel
the lines deceased
irreverence released
do you want to fall behind
the line, congo style
playing the bongos
on air, blowing off steam
Ricky’s loving
her deep red hair
henna is just a trick
he does tricks
morality took a leap, why
the dial into sleep?
David’s herding, no one heard
the sheep.
the bees buzzing
the birds whatzing
the show a go go
look on tape
to see what you believe
no one
in tv land is dressed in virtue
it’s a really big shoe
Ed Sullivan’s size
throw the curtain
don’t look behind the curtain
memorize the lines
even prairie lines
so sweet and innocent
don’t analyze
you’ll be disappointed
don’t buy the book
it’s not done by the book
there’s a cover for a reason
don’t meet the action figures
they don’t bend
you can pop their heads off
they’re not worth
a million dollar man
Farrah Fawcett wouldn’t give
him an eye
it’s rich
his life’s unreal
roll the real
world
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