i hear the ticking of the clock
it's in my head and in my heart
the pulse of life doubtlessly finite
so many things i want to do
the tic toc getting louder
it echoes in my brain
rummaging through images and dreams
while time rings evermore elusive
i get up in the morning determined
with a yearning to break free
driven to spark the momentum
for the many things i want to do
AP: 3rd place 2025
See here? - you do see a little rot.
But over there? - definitely not.
So, whoever said you were totally rotten,
doubtlessly, has brains of cotton -
cuz totally rotten? - you’re certainly not.
THOUGHTS OF BOY JACKSON
'They say "All work without play makes Jack a dull boy."
Then, all play without work should make him a smart boy!'
Right? That's definitely not viewed from good positioning.
Doubtlessly, Jackson's thoughts seem to be malfunctioning.
Life will play with your emotions like it's just a toy.
All play without work only makes Jack a playboy.
The fun of today is only tomorrow's failure decoy.
"All work without play makes Jack a dull boy."
But all play without work will also make him poor.
And reality will come at you like fantastic four.
"All work without play makes Jack a dull boy."
Work & play in order to attain unsumountable joy.
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?December 2023.
fruits of blackberries
wrongly picked by boys and girls
Black beetle bunches
07 June 2021
Going about our lives with giving hearts
Inspired forever by His unfailing love
Very eager to follow His perfect example
Incomplete and so forlorn without Him
Naturally desirous to spread good news
Giving and accepting the gift of prayer
Generous always with love and devotion
Obedience to the dear Lord in all things
Doubtlessly directing all our footsteps
Letting forgiveness prevail in our hearts
Yielding to peaceableness at all times
Gladly sharing with many His holy word
Revelling in eternal joy of knowing Him
All abuzz about His everlasting goodness
Communing with other people in His house
Exuberantly praising Him and worshipping
Written on May 12, 2021
For: Giving Godly Grace Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
I am a careful driver who stays in my lane
Except when I think doing so would be insane
Like when a crazy fool
Is stubborn as a mule
And has an ego that is totally inane
I humbly and wisely take the high road...except
When another driver is doubtlessly inept
I'm not the one who crashed
and don't need to be bashed
Do not assume I am wrong, when I am adept
A driver who thinks he's better is a road hog
Some folks might even consider him a hotdog
Mouthing off like he's right
Like a poet on a site
Bragging like a fat bullfrog, squatting on a log
The monster in the hall
The demon in the closet
The banshee in the hamper
The lizard that can't crawl
It wraps around your arms
Like a heavy black snake
The thing's sadistic charms
Will leave you awake
It has cold, metal skin
That will doubtlessly in
With fingers like knives
That easily take lives
The thing is huge: ten feet tall
With glaring yellow eyes
That attack at surprise
It comes from the land where nothing grows
And nobody there in the land knows
What peace and bliss and gladness are
Because the good land is so afar
The few in the bad land are unlucky troops
Fighting and fighting the thing
They want to be in the good land far, far away
But The Thing assures the The Thing will get its way
The Thing can't be touched by anyone but them.
The Thing simply can't be destroyed.
The Thing's murders are very grim
Especially when
You're next.
Marvelous, matchless, magical, moonlit midnight,
With a superabundance of sparkly, summery stars,
Peacefully placid, pure and prettily plummy,
Radiantly rich, rhapsody resplendent rapture!
Fragrant flowers frolic freely in your fervence,
Eye-catching and exquisite in their exuberance,
Bouncing blissfully in breezy, blooming ballet.
Inexhaustible and intoxicating and intriguing,
Dazzling and delightful, and doubtlessly dreamy.
see that pain, stare that glory
Here are the mistakes, I am sorry
We are poor, but hope full...nothing to worry
now that your with Jane...forget not Dorry
The battle is as clear as you can imagine
If you eye for an eye...we would doubtlessly be blind
In it all we would derive pin in the end
...glory features pin, patient and understanding of faith
see that pain, stare that glory
Here are the mistakes, I am sorry
We are poor, but hope full...nothing to worry
now that your with Jane...forget not Dorry
The battle is as clear as you can imagine
If you eye for an eye...we would doubtlessly be blind
In it all we would derive pin in the end
...glory features pin, patient and understanding of faith
It was planned investigated and edited
Measures were interwoven so as to assure;
And in the end success was achieved;
Acknowledged and accredited master of self-survival
You must have been quite busy I imagine.
I suppose I’m to offer you kudos;
Since I never saw the final outcome coming;
And that in its self-had to have been a bonus
I was young and doubtlessly deserved it;
So I let it go thinking in the future;
Maybe you might feel vindicated;
But apparently motivations go beyond vindications..
So okay I feel bad “real bad”
And sometimes I forget myself;
And let the water run down my face;
Over the distain that manifest it’s self through selections
And time doing what it often does for some;
Gave me the courage to be,
Open and less self-protective;
But some of us never conquered fear.
I passed some brownstones on my walk
All set for Halloween,
And several had the scariest
Displays I’ve ever seen:
Evil-looking monsters,
Webs with spiders, huge and black;
Zombies looking like they’d love
To leap out and attack.
A ghostly bride with tattered gown,
A clown with moving eyes;
And ghouls and vampires waiting
For some souls to terrorize.
This wasn’t friendly child décor
But really scary stuff.
I think a smiling ghost and pumpkin
Might have been enough.
The obvious intention, though,
Was doubtlessly, to shock.
At night, I know that I would hate
To walk down such a block.
I miss the Halloween of old
And wish we could go back
To a time we’d have a little scare
And not a heart attack!
Here I pause to pose my ponderings, spilling them to the sky beyond me.
I have wistfully wondered and wished and been filled with gratitude recently.
Thank you earth for grounding me, granting me growth and endless glee.
Thank you sun for warming me, welcoming me with the wonder of light so gracefully.
Thank you moon for your perfect pastel glow, peeping through the clouds so playfully.
Thank you life for holding me steady, sure and safe and sound. I'm happy.
Thank you mother for your diligent direction and loving me doubtlessly.
Thank you father for your hard work, wealth of wise words and charity.
Thanks you faithful friends who remain fearless in the face of how fickle time can be.
Thank you sky for my horizon, the emblem of my hope and health and humanity.
Thank you sea and sand and sunny sanctuaries for the times we were carefree.
Thank you faith for granting me the freedom to invest in my future firmly.
Now for liberty and luck and opportunity to learn, I have been leant to gratitude recently,
So, I gratefully accept that I am able to achieve in and appreciate the great life before me.
**For the 'through... thoughtful and thankful' contest**
Your book says 'Honor Thy Mother and Father' and you tell me I must follow this.
But I must dispute back and insist you cannot honor those who aren't honorable.
And you watch me as I take an approach towards your book that's not too classy.
And you glare at me menacingly and tell me that my attitude is much too sassy.
You tell me the moral of the tale is this, I say the moral of the tale is that.
And yet you are indignant towards me, and call me a brat.
And then you hold a stigmatic belief towards a topic, and I counter it perfectly.
You laugh me off patronizingly, and you insist I am wrong doubtlessly.
You think because you've got some years on me I am empty of knowledge.
And as you shutter out my heartfelt opinions you leave me lethargic.
And as you watch me enjoy my music you scream it is trashy.
And as I defend my enjoyment you write me off as sassy.
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