It is the small things that matter most
Your heart sings fresh buttered toast
Family brings together a Sunday roast
Smitten a handwritten letter in the post
Jaunts or saunters down Britain’s coast
Snow balls glisten child’s mitten the host
Don’t be a Scrooge listen to every ghost
Best bet to forget regret but don’t boast
Entranced by happenstance engrossed
In the hub of a pub toast with mein host
Your flotilla through strife of life will coast
If don’t let get pushed from pillar to post
As God damn it our planet will soon roast
Foremost and utmost remember to toast
Little treasures that every day does boast
Teeny weeny pleasures our own outpost
Just make sure you are regularly dosed
With those small things that matter most
Genuine contentment* is gain against greed's blight
Sans carnal cravings of selfish heart’s reign
While sufficiency bursts midst sharing delight.
Let’s chase not earthly wealth with temporal strain
Knowing that satisfaction matters most
Along kindness upon reaching-out terrain.
Grateful to God for blessings, heavenly dosed
Our spirits are filled with joy, serenely divine
As we care to give cheerfully, never to boast.
With prayer to keep our faith to shine
Bouncing from fall due to covetous heart
We now move on, fulfilling goodness-design.
Triumphantly contented to do our part
Every day is a fresh radiant start.
*1Timothy 6:6 ... Godliness with contentment is great gain. 1Timothy 6:11 ...O man of God, ...follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness.
April 22, 2026
2nd place, "2026-04-02 Write a Beautiful Terza Rima" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 5/2/2026
The moments with you
Fill my heart with joy
The moments with you
Linger like a soft fabric
The moments with you
Leave me spellbound and dosed
The moments with you
Makes the next much more meaningful
I wish these moments
Could fill our lives
This is not to say
There's anything wrong now
I just know
Fruit would taste sweeter
Music would ring clearer
The fire in our homes hearth
Would burn for us forever
A moment with you
Is my wish
Glass Dolls
Glass dolls in glass houses.
Glass dolls with glass douses
Of reality, don’t they know?
That the girl who lives in fantasy
Still sees a rainbow?
And all the poems seem so hollow now-
Because the light inside her is almost out.
Because of the existence of
Glass dolls in glass houses
Dosed with reality, but they are so
Hollow now.
I will NOT be like them.
No, not twisted and molded, not me.
Not my hope slipping through
The cracks of reality.
But my brain is so hollow
And Death is like a swallow
Fluttering around in its little nest that is me.
Through my brain, through *my*
Reality.
Does anyone care? I ponder with these thoughts.
No, surely not.
Because if anyone knew that me and Death are still friends,
That I’d play cards at his table
Until the bitter end, surely *that*
Would disturb them. And so I am quiet,
Day after day. Because at night my brain shatters
Deep
Against the duvet.
Yesterday I dosed in a dream
And caught sunrays in a jar
I was captive on a carousel of time
While pondering what love is to a star
The Painted Pony was running free
And the season writing words in rhyme
Faces fading pass in joy and laughter
Playing a part in this dream of mine
Clouds appeared and I feared of lightning
And tearful when thunder roared afar
The wind blew hard for the season
And scattered the sunrays from my jar
The leaves fled in colors
The wind rushed the water of a stream
My thoughts came back and joined me
and vanished my disappearing dream
I can’t return but I can send a wish
As the stream keeps limping on
I must wait until the carousel make It’s circle
And another dream comes along
The season has passed in splendor
The wheel, once more starts a new
Shadows dance in step with a breeze
And clouds float in review
I can see the shade that welcomes me
Winter has gone and spring is coming round
The Painted Pony glides by faces
And the carousel slows its circle down
Spiked Drinks Got Them All So Rolling Drunk
Universe spun out of control and died
The planets sputtered out and then fell
The southern boy liked his chicken fried
And preacher's young son rang the old church bell
Hope lost its heart and thus began to cry
The throng laughed away, nobody cared
High sheriff asked, did anybody die
Mike gathered rabbits he had snared
Janet put on blue gown for that night's ball
As her older brother Bill dosed the keg
While white mouse in the corner saw it all
Kelly in miniskirt showed her legs.
Spiked drinks got them all so rolling drunk.
Most f'ed up of all was the local monk.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet,
1973
"A prom night to remember"
Spoilt child, why do you wrong your mother.
Why do you steal from me when I cater to all your needs.
You deal in poison, your greed is evil despite me giving you life
Destruction and profit the desires of the few Poverty and famine the charge to your siblings
What is man but a pest, a criminal without empathy.
Psychopath extreme without balanced judgement.
Life dosed with medicine, suffering and pain to feed the devil.
Ecocide, genocide with bellys full of fat, never saitated despite your grotesque form.
Science ignored, humiliation and shame on our most valuable
Doctors and nurses fighting for health on the streets are stretched off in chains
Education for the Masse's in classrooms of court while teacher's are the king's jester.
Olympians on a new pedestal of hell, medals replaced by summons
What have you become my child, my shame is collosal and I dream of your demise.
For beauty flourishes without you and so my greatest gift will be your removal.
in again had clocked
thoughts from my mind had been blocked
my brain tightly locked
concept corrected
mind with body connected
my brains collected
had been head scratcher
not ever virus catcher
be of sound stature
seen in state of shock
we had checked out cattle stock
chip off the old block
poem up contriving
did see bird which was diving
find more food striving
masks decomposing
them should be reimposing
properly disposing
when things went to waste
they will have done with much haste
did not meet our taste
books stored side by side
none of them will want to hide
read them all have tried
about quanon
always wished that it was gone
start a bright new dawn
a brief nap I took
read one more page in my book
about Trump being crook
on you God will grow
my Bible has told me so
did fight off each foe
ingenuity
should buy an annuity
in community
at wheel may have dosed
to virus we were exposed
whole house should be hosed
A Coffin
A coffin came my way,
They said, therein you lay;
I could believe them nay,
Until they said they could flay;
Wild I went,
I could not vent;
The expression remaining,
Before it started draining;
I was no longer composed,
I had to be dosed;
You were ethereal,
This had to be surreal;
No enmity could matter,
When everything had shattered;
You had been battered,
When you had me flattered;
I can not apologise,
You have been baptized;
I seek not your forgiveness,
I need not your liveness;
For you’ll always be,
Right here, in my heart;
I woke up, to find you gone,
For EVER in your zone..
I need not repent,
For I have your scent;
Your memories alive,
Shall always thrive;
You were one of a kind,
Never out of your mind;
It is not cowardice,
For it requires courage;
It shall not be despised,
For it was your suffrage..
He felt self conscious, insecure,
Inadequate and most unsure.
He looked upon the night with dread,
For he was unadept in bed.
He thought it all was in his pants,
And feared he could not do the dance;
And then he saw it on T.V.,
With insane grin they touted "V".
It would make him a super man,
And she would be his biggest fan.
So off he went to the pharmacy,
To buy a box, or maybe three.
He popped a pill and to his surprise.
It grew before his very eyes;
So he took another just for fun,
He over dosed and was undone.
The paramedics laughed out loud,
When they saw how he was endowed.
He was too big for his britches,
And it left them all in stitches.
"My God!" the doctor said entranced,
It looks just like a big egg plant.
We're gonna have to drain that thing,
So hang on tight it's gonna sting.
Our hero learned his lesson well,
Though he had to go through Hell.
Though some think the stuff is grand,
Viagra does not make the man.
(the person depicted above is fictional and any similarities to real persons living or dead is unintentional)
Let us not singular sinfiltrate our
over dosed mind measures
of all our predisposed socio-patterened
downfalls we have domesti-inherited
from our DNA dumb nulls un an
appreciated elders of **** ascent
beings of a post/past anointed anomalied
bereavements pushing presumptive
present tense postured atrocities
future follied fornitude frenzies to
cry contain those all ever after brazen
generations to live sideways in tune
to ever realize a coaxial junction
a dead conscience to staid to survive,
to sly to reveal and to nominal to be normal
to contain/re-contain those all ever after
gonad generations. Maybe a sideways pill pattern to
open me up before xmas, a corpse closed purpose
concentric of nerve present equal-eulogized
venture void with empty filled shakers of self.
Some time ago, we were sent so far from home,
and I could not see a romance while yet I was to roam.
With resignation, I told the Fates - my search it was suspended;
they smirked, for 'twas the long game they intended.
When we met, a friendship so seamlessly began,
and I could not help but break my own chosen ban.
With hope, I told the Fates - long-dead embers they were fanned;
they laughed, for they knew another then held your hand.
While I was away yet again, I met another ghost,
and I could not stand once more so bitterly dosed.
With rage, I told the Fates - my patience it had quit;
they grinned, for they judged I was not yet unfit.
A year passed, and they smiled warm and true,
for then they sent the owl and bade me visit you.
I sat there in an edge of a seat of an overly packed train,
trying to snatch forty winks,
to get away from the excruciating back pain.
Dosed off sometime unknown,
felt a soft touch caressing through my face,
woke up to see her standing by my side.
I grabbed her hands,
pressed my face into her soft,
supple palm and sobbed out loud,
She stroked my hair lovingly and whispered,
I am the only one who's there with everyone when they are down and depressed,
still don't know why everyone calls me A "Necromancer"
I Am "Solitude"!
©Chitra Arun
This poison tasted like wine enough to kill my conscious
This fields of medicine I drank myself out of this situation of in-laws my mother zonked herself to be part of
My poison was them, nothing ever killed me like they did
This field of medicine not only caused me to die a deleterious death
This field of medicine killed my womb to birth my own children
This poison!
I employed sectors of poisonous substances for reasons other than toxicity
I employed sectors to destroy my own consciousness
I injected a deadly potion dose to kill myself
I injected a deadly potion to kill and destroy this temple I live in everyday
I wanted to feel numbness
I headed straight to the edge with a slogged mind of this poison I intoxicated myself to sleep through this pain I was feeling
To my surprise
I laid awake in mind
I laid awake in mind with no sets of my body moving
That was never a dream, was it?
I dosed off my conscious with this poison I drank
Poet
Masego Nkuna
The passage of time
It felt so slow for you
...Didn't it?
You would stand in front of the window
For hours looking at the night sky
And a tear streaked down your cheek
Your hand on the curtain
Would begin to tremble
...It was so hard
Your soul ached
Your thoughts were jumbled
Counting hours
After counting days
Weeks passed
Every fiber of your being
Was waiting
And as you dosed off
While standing in front of the window
Lights flashed
...You smiled, didn't you?
Your heart was bursting
The moment had finally come
But the door didn't open
Instead there was a heavy knock
And your heart sank
...Somehow, you already knew
When you answered the door
Their expressions broke your heart
Your lover was slain
The passage of time
It felt so slow for you
...Didn't it?
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