Unsuppression
Exact wild convoluted digressions
Dispatched rap to re ramp tan
Hide all important novelties
As I confuse the vile
Stagnations the ball sawed dust till
Legends found tall
Ballerina indignant
The definition that wouldn't kiss
She wanted rules in verbs
Out of poison
Longing for idiom
We played out a sunlight
So I could pass on to heaven
What he might
A long a line in times
Well righting zincs
Wipe after wipe
I built a heart she never lept
Four cloves to the heart did grow
And removed her shucks from my lies
Brexit
I grew up hearing tales of who You are
So kind, so just, so full of love and grace.
You watched me closely like a guiding star,
Your whispers now still echo in this place.
I speak to You, and tears begin to fall,
For in the quiet, I can feel You near.
My Friend, my Shield, my Strength through every call,
You lift my soul and cast away my fear.
Without You, Lord, my world would drift apart,
My dreams and goals would lose their light and worth.
Yet still, You knew the secrets of my heart,
And cleansed my sins before my time on earth.
Please help me never drift, never pull away, never trade
Your presence for silence. Because in You, I find everything, I will ever need.
For Sir Brian Strand's 1401 Poetry Contest
5 August 2025
_
_I_
___/ - \___ sleep underwater—
| |
________________|________ |_______
\ o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o______ / ...\______________________________ /
only bubbles tell the tale
o o o
o o o
o o o o
of shadows below.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clouds drift
white and soft
New ones form,
then fade
Feathery edges
sweep across
Silver light glints
Grey shadows drift
The lack of common sense
makes nonsense easy,
things that should make sense,
slip through, unchallenged.
Yet common sense itself
makes the absurd unbearable,
forcing logic upon the illogical,
struggling to grasp the uncommon.
To live without it
is to drift through chaos,
unbothered by contradiction.
To live with it
is to wrestle with reason,
forever questioning the senseless.
In the silence of the night, alone in bed, she lets her thoughts drift,
She wonders what it would be like to feel the warmth of a man beside her,
To have him kiss away her fears and touch her soul with desire and tenderness.
She imagines his hands slowly uncovering her secrets,
And his lips tracing shivers on her skin, like an artist of shadows.
She wonders, does it hurt? And if so, how long until it turns into pleasure?
What does it mean to feel him deep within her, to sense his firmness and unwavering desire?
She longs to know that deep explosion, that fulfillment promising universes,
To experience the pleasure that has not yet come, but feels near, like a dream.
In the quiet of the night, between desire and imagination, she weaves untold stories,
Waiting for dreams to become reality, like a song that has yet to be sung.
baby ghost
wrinkles the river
I gaze
at its drowsiness
as I masticate
on the meanings of why
because inside me is misaligned
and its cold, sleepy eye
- cautionless -
shall twitch
like visible white noise
when TV boxes snap
neither shoals
nor skipping stones
breaches the facade of a conspiratory sea
river rattles
'cause it's my baby's ghost:
The Deer Hunter
picked her blossom
tending his garden
of wicked passion
for crooked lotuses
laying dead
afloat
My buddy will always be
like poetry.
But sadly,
the poetry itself caused suddenly
an emotional rift.
And I thought
she will be standing firmly
at her stand
and I would remain feeling
stupidly upper hand and silently drift.
But she
proved herself to be the better one
just to make me realise graciously
a real buddy bond does not ever
break or shift
and showed me thawing my heart
with the sweet surprise of a
buddy caring gift.
(26.03.2025)
Pull in the anchor and drift in dream
Be daring in each avenue you choose to seek
Let not the worries of yesterday burden your soul
For freedom lies with the setting sun
And tomorrow is forever yours
A Canvas of a different kind,
Settle down, quiet the mind.
Taking time, refining the design.
Vibrations of colors so appealing.
The Choices I made revealing,
How I'm feeling.
Starting the healing,
As we make the shift,
Into A dimensional drift.
- -----------
Explosion of colors in front of me.
Step back and look again,
Now what do you see.
Focusing heart and soul,
Letting go what I know,
To Perceive it differently.
Creating a rift,
Into A dimensional drift.
- -----------
Sifting through realities,
Exploring New capabilities.
What could they be?
Approaching excitedly,
I slide Through the divide,
Embracing the ride.
The other side Presents Me a gift,
Feeling my spirit lift into,
An Inter-dimensional drift.
Settle down, quiet the mind.
Taking time, refine the design.
Vibration of colors so appealing.
The Choices I made revealing,
How I'm feeling.
Starting the healing,
As we make the shift,
Into A dimensional drift.
- -----------
Explosion of colors in front of me.
Step back and look again,
Now what do you see.
Focusing heart and soul,
Letting go what I know,
To Perceive it differently.
Creating a rift,
Into A dimensional drift.
- -----------
Sifting through realities,
Exploring New capabilities.
What could they be?
Approaching excitedly,
I slide Through the divide,
Embracing the ride.
The other side Presenting Me a gift,
An Inner dimensional drift.
I died today,
I felt myself just drifting away,
The sky was blue as I walked through a green green park.
I walked slowly, I didn't worry that I might be late,
I was so relaxed as I went toward that golden gate,
And standing right there, my Mum, my Dad and my beautiful daughter too.
I never felt this good as I looked up and recognised you,
I thought everything would be gloomy and sad,
But now I am back with you, I know things are not so bad.
Feeling is but a distraction
A distraction from being present
While presence is masked by mist
Created by unwillingness to perceive.
Perception requires a bravery that only
The willing can achieve.
The wiling infers a collection of thoughts
That allows mask to breathe.
Version #1
Petals float down like dreams,
landing gently on the ground,
vanishing before we rise.
Version #2
Petals descend like whispers,
landing quietly on the earth,
lost before we open our eyes.
Kalimba notes drift out
To my delighted ear
As if the Matobo plains
Were conveyed from afar.
The tines - reverberating -
Complete an ethereal bar.
Each bar - artfully plucked -
Speaks kindly to my heart.
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