The heaviest sound lays us to rest
Tied to the steak and eats our heart out
Composure fixed to the evening sky
Swivel the scenery then throw me away when I am colored dead
Let's all pose then fall down the well together
Understudies for the part we weren't meant to play
Courage for cowards in the rewriter's chair beating the around the rose bush
Sink thirty thousand feet into the shoes too narrow for human feats.
Back to factory settings until you can learn how to sing let alone speak our names
Caution tape leashes the struggle bus in gear on your best days
One step further than slipping up on a Monday, blue and battered
I wake up to the sight of the out of boundaries shred to pieces
Water for the pills stuck in swallowing fashion
Wings tied to the bed abstract as ever
We dreamt of the rise and fall of the house of us
Blueprints of further disappointment with marble inlays to hold onto this moment
Shock jocks of jealous siblings gnashing at ankles going home
Nostalgic for chaos and that bitter root
I didn't know that I was this obvious
Innocence donated with and without the will to live
It took up well, but's firmly plunging south
A million starts, yet hardly any ends
Self-interest at the core, with foul mouth
And very few, if any, real friends
Good deeds, I barely count any
To benefit all those while in need
Oh, yeah, he terminated penny
And those who donated he has freed
The "ego" dwarfing larger state of Texas
While, sadly, arrogance, it's bursting at the seams
Deflecting questions to White House "Alexa"
Pursuing legacy is goal, as it seems
Be center of attention everywhere
Is good for one but not for all of us
He'll cut you off on TV "Town Square"
And call you stupid on demand he wouldn't discuss
When "I" replaces whole nation
It's very selfish, wouldn't you agree?
Each spoken word must rhyme with "ovation"
It's always "me me me" instead of "we we we"
August 24, 2026
Dear Brother.
You used to be so alive- the ever-frantic butterfly.
Lightning-quick-witted, with a warm summer smile.
Always pulling little brother up from the pigsty.
Now you're hobbled by disease and age.
The expanse of your galaxy shrinking.
To the size of a porta potty and a word search page.
You've donated your trusty old car to charity.
How far can one travel with a turtle's cane?
Are you caving in on life or is life caving in on you?
The glitter of youth has taken on a much duller hue.
Fate has placed you into the black heart of a landslide.
I can do nothing but watch as you go over the side.
I don't have your strength to lift you up from this stye.
Dear brother, I fear that you've abandoned your mind.
Vaccuming every
inch of yourself
They vacuumed
everything
Every inch they
think is
dirt
Vaccum it all up and
throw it in the trash
Watch it all go in the garbage
Watch as they
threw away
Every part of you you
spent years building
Gone because they think it was
never good enough
Cleaning a room you
took so long to decorate
They
Vaccum it all up
Put everything in
boxes and bags
Throw it in the
donate pile
Donate the very thing that makes
you, you
to someone else
Let it get
recycled
Maybe
someone else can
fix it
Someone else can
have it
Maybe they won’t be
judged and
hurt
That’s fine
You aren’t
you anymore
You’re in
garbage bags
and boxes labeled
donate
You’re just
the vessel
You, were the person who
they
donated
and threw away
The keep pile
Is as empty
As your heart
After you let them
Throw
Away
Everything that made
You, you.
All cause you let them
control you
There’s a woman I pass in the mornings
Who prefers not to nod a hello,
Not unusual for a New Yorker;
That’s the way that these things often go.
She seems close to my age, but walks slower
And her clothing is baggy and loose,
Unlike most of us out there with leggings,
Which she’d likely not wear, I deduce.
Yet this morning I passed her and noticed,
As I swiveled for a double-take,
That her t-shirt was very familiar
And quite certainly not a mistake.
For it once nestled, folded quite nicely,
In a drawer with the rest of my tees,
But I’d donated it to the thrift shop
Where I bring things that no longer please.
I was glad to see somebody wear it
Who’d appraised it with different eyes,
Yet I wondered why I hadn’t kept it
As an exercise shirt in my size.
Was a woman known as Fifi
She was stingy and greedy
God changed her heart
Like getting a new car
Donated her hoarding to needy
Food use to grow freely, making us have many things to fill our bellies.
Food in its natural state, use to be so accessible, it use to grow all around.
Food is like a gift from God, it has the ability to make us feel great.
Food is the fuel we need to survive, it keeps us going all day long.
Food like apples and other fruit, use to grow all around.
Food should always be growing all around, it should be easily found, making no one suffer from starvation.
Food is essential, so make it grow and give it away every day.
Food is our fuel, so make it grow and teach the next generation to be great farmers.
Food should never be wasted, all the unused food should be donated, to a place for recycle.
Food is medicine, it cures, it fills our body with essential stuff, so value it, procure it, and never waste it.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
I approached the familiar chair,
And sat, breathing out the stress of the day.
Looking around, familiar faces with almost-remembered names
Flashing back and forth on the TV.
In my hand is just water,
But it feels like a tell.
I sit, all my possessions within reach.
Everything that makes me what I thought was
Unique
Fearless
Strong
Is hidden behind my leg.
Embarrassment and shame engulfs me again.
Another hotel lobby, because no bed welcomes me.
A bag filled with donated miscellaneous mystery meat
Cans I bow down for, gratitude for something
For something someone found.
From Easter, or Christmas, 15-20-30 years past.
No good for people,
To the homeless it's passed.
The chair is familiar.
It is the chair I sat in when I realised -
Pity is not low enough,
Disgust is not deep enough.
You know how you feel when you see them.
Sat outside because no one welcomes us in.
we returned from the cemetery at four
who saw the girl? asked my cousin Lenore
She tried to pretend she’d seen a ghost out there
We were not in the mood, did not even care
Services have this effect on us, puts us in the mood.
We didn’t even want to eat all the donated food.
Thinking of the deceased, who used to love to play.
Wishing he would come back on this gloomy dour day.
Book lovers everywhere would understand
how special this tower of books read here stands.
In the new year, they'll be donated and find new homes.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
“Peace on earth will come to stay,
When we live Christmas every day”
Helen Steiner Rice
I saw a beggar at the street light
I rolled up my window in fuchsia fright
You may ask me the question why
I fear men more than I fear Christ
The truth is ugly is it not so
Perhaps I have no cash to dispose
Even if that is the case I know
God frowns upon a stingy soul
I donated to the charity on tv
For kids Christmas by Salvation Army
I don’t feel bad they once helped me
And tis the season to help those who need
Saw another panhandling man
Thought to myself well here’s my chance
Offered to buy him food or groceries
He declined says he only wants cash money
But his sign said he needs food
Not trying to be funny or rude
I had no cash and indeed I refuse
To give him money to buy booze
So I told him that I had no cash
It wasn’t a lie to tell him that
I didn’t care if he was upset or mad
Looking at me judging me with a laugh
Peace on earth is a delicacy indeed
This man and his demons a mystery
He obviously wanted money from me
But instead got prayer that God meets needs
i took them in
amongst a pile of other glittering monstrosities
the low-pitched liquid consonants
behind the counter thanked me
and i ran for the doors
really went for it
a year went by and they were there
next to Auden and Pam Ayres
Berryman & Betjeman just down the road
what madness i thought on the way home
and two months later i was in bed, in the dark
listening to the large repertory of Carmen
its immortality is assured by the deft harmonies
and perfectly judged orchestration
like my collections in the charity shop
covered in dust
and high levels of vehicular dredge microwaves
waiting for the apocalypse
It's almost half past three
time to cosy up for tea
kettle's on the boil to brew
tea for two me and you
with egg and cress or
cucumber sandwiches
with nary a single crust
(they were all donated
to the National Trust)
it's after forty to four
shall I be Mother and pour
I know you know Pekoe
the table's set quite daintily
two for tea you and me
and we can sing my song
'Lapsang Souchong'
I LONG
YOU LONG
WE ALL LONG
FOR OOLONG
unless you're feeling more Darjeeling
Australia last year donated guns..Held by the goverment
Just token in the sum..Even pistols anything you can
Think..While its own citizens can't even clink.' The bolt
In a barrel withougt jumping through many hoops.' Strange
Times, strange laws.. What do you think.?? And all those
Guns were sent to Ukraine? Its like pouring fuel on a fire
To me thats so plain.'
unearthed belongings...
gasps of pleasant astonishment;
e u r e k a!
white elephants galore...
many treasures, too!
fallen into decades of desuetude
old clothes and shoes
to be donated to charity;
some books to be thrown away.
a silver locket, I thought lost;
inscribed with the word "Dreamer"
on the inside.
birthday gift many, many years ago
from my first love. wow!
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