You came and lingered into my life so early
Through recitation, you dwelled upon me
You played a big role in my stage of growing up
When I learned many poems to gesture
Innocently, I was joyfully seated on your lap.
Appreciation to your splendor promptly started
At young age, rhymes easily retained in my head
If sometimes I needed to share some ideas at school
And reflections on bible verses at churches
Mostly were expressed in rhymes… so fun, so cool.
At teen age years, when I’d an infatuation or crush
My scribbled short rhyme poem was sent in a rush
One of those boys sent me back his reply
My joy was flailing high for it was love letter in rhyme
After a year or two, I found out, a song of Air Supply.
Ever since I was in the field of my profession
You’ve been a great help as I impart skills, my vocation
I’ve compositions for my children’s choral recitation
Written in English and in our own language
For our class, campus programs and competitions.
My dearest poetry, you’re my best buddy
In all seasons, you’re here for me
To light my path, giving powers or energy
My forever gratitude for your company
You’re my precious gift from our God, Almighty.
He dwelled in depths I dared not enter
Satan the landlord; he the renter
He packed his things but left behind
a lidded box he hoped I'd find.
It was not of the Pandora kind.
Curious as to what he'd put inside...
Yes, I was inquisitive enough
to know if its contents had the power
to devour me whole or leave me sour
over the promises he didn't keep...
the vows he broke that made we weep.
He'd stolen my heart and I wanted it back
I the prey, he the hunter.
Sunset descended behind willow trees
before it felt right to open the lid,
for in darkness, he'd left me in sorrow,
grimly haunted by the memories of him.
In stygian shadows is where he often hid.
How fitting the hour of midnight appealed
to me to unseal the box, its cover to lift.
Therein I found his silver wedding band
and felt I should thank him for this final gift.
In the box of dreaded darkness, I found light.
A gift I understood as I held it in my hand.
He the giver, I the receiver.
Sitting at the pub,
The one where I once dwelled,
Hoped for being noticed,
Praying it's not still there,
A smile of reflection,
The person sitting in the chair,
Not the same as she once was,
No longer a bar fly with curly hair,
I remember all of the voices,
Friendships I thought were permanent,
Alcohol, glasses clashing,
Lips loose and eyes gazing,
What a different life I live now,
Now sitting for just a glimpse,
To relax, to remember,
Old feelings and yearning blazing,
Progress unmeasurable,
Entering the same environment,
A brief moment feeling a lifetime,
Intoxicated culture is no longer social,
Though it creeps and festers,
To sabotage together,
What joy in letting go and relaxing,
It must be temporary or is woeful.
I've no memory of my beginning,
A tiny seed, a lowly abandoned weed
Taken for a ride on Mariah's breath
Safe harbor found on a wall,
I barely squeezed between the bricks
and rested there for a while
In the silence of loneliness, I dwelled
No others like me did I see
as I buried myself inside a crevice
Leaves like arms in shades of green
I budded like a wildflower
Despite the odds I survived
I'll be doomed to a lonely life
without a flowery mate...
a lonely weed, never to procreate
A memory ~ I recall being a wispy seed,
with fuzzy siblings at my side
When our white-haired mother withered,
she sent us off without a goodbye
to live or die on our own.
Years ago, a drowsing youth
sensed there was a greater truth.
His heart would rise up to wake
when he spied the lady of the lake.
He'd always dwelled in the dark
but thought, "She must be the spark"
to bring me out into the light,
and change my life to one so bright.
Enchanted by her golden hair,
he left his world. He didn't care.
Radiating the moonlight's gleam,
she embodied his waking dream.
At the shore, where lake meets land,
he offered her an ardent hand.
Instead, she gave him a sword,
and descended without a word.
Would this sword, not love that's true,
be the pride of blood that's blue -
or would it find the blood that's red,
and whose, I wonder, would it shed?
For the child, the pain was too great,
He clasped the handle, drove it straight
into his pulsing, throbbing heart,
a self-inflicted fatal dart.
This black Excalibur, withdrawn
from a body whose soul was gone,
took its color from the dead heart
of one ill-fated from the start.
The only question I can't shake -
was it the lady of the lake,
the sword, or was it the youth
himself, the murderer, in truth?
She hadn’t worked there but a month
from far away she came
Her hair was curly, long and blond
I don’t recall her name
We spoke of money once or twice
a banker she could be
But deep inside, a poison dwelled
which I was soon to see
One day she pulled a wallet
from the purse she always had
She said it was the last possession
of her now dead, dad
She handed me the wallet
soft and gray and old
And said it was the very last
her father’s hand did hold
She said it was made special
the skin was from a Jew
That very few existed
and not too many knew
Time was frozen, as I held
a sin inside my hand
A wallet from her father
created from a man
I asked, What do you mean to say?
and gave the wallet back
She said that it had been a Jew
once taken from a shack
I said, Why did you do this,
and make me touch this thing?
How dare you think that I’d accept
this hate for Jews you bring?
We never spoke a word again
like strangers we would be
From that day on, just looks exchanged
between that girl and me
I am grateful that no matter where I’ve put down roots
no matter where I’ve dwelled…
I’ve never been far from my family tree
for I am rooted there as well.
In a wintry hollow, atop Mount Crumpit, dwelled Max and The Grinch,
A dog and his master of mischief, whose heart measured an inch,
And beared a soul of zero dimensions, tented by a teardrop physique,
The villainous Who who'd snuck away with Christmas to his frosty peak.
POETRY IS IN THE HOUSE: Title - Attic
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: 07-Nov-2025
---------------------------------------------
Dark room - cobwebs around,
Old broken treasures stored --
Memories dwelled, hopes found.
Eons since time left here,
Laughters rang, scents lingered,
Past and future - now bound.
You arrived at my door
I was far from inclined
You deserved so much more
I was naive and blind
I could have been your rock
Could have even been great
But my maternal clock
Was wired, far too late
To naturally nurture
It felt foreign to me
More awkward than sure
I still longed to be free
Just a child yesterday
I dwelled in my own past
I allowed you to stay
But my actions were crass
In hindsight I can see
How foolish I had been
You were sent to save me
And become my best friend
And so I went to the water,
To wash my wounds,
To cool my burns,
To calm my storms,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
To dive for clarity,
To search for dignity,
To drown my fragility,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
To find my innocence,
To forgive my insolence,
To cleanse my conscience,
Yet still — I bled red.
And so I went to the water,
And dwelled in pain,
To mend what love had broken,
To sew what had been torn,
To patch what life had scorned,
And yet — I still bled red.
This red won’t let me go.
This red has stayed.
For it is always the wounded
Who bleed—
Never the ones
Who carry the blade
with apologies to Poe
Three Ravens came a-calling
one cold and foggy autumn day
and settled on a rotted railing,
they didn't have much time to play.
The birds began to argue and implore,
who would do the tapping
and who would do the rapping
upon the chamber door?
The ghost Lenore dwelled in the home,
and heard the raven's loud word war,
she floated out into the gloam
and BOOED at them - come again nevermore!
by Suzan Michelle Satchell
One night, I dreamt I went to heaven. The holy place of God, and as I looked around, I beheld beauty all around me—
So holy, so pure, I knew God dwelled there.
Light danced upon peace; not a sound could be found,
Only whispers of grace filled the air.
I was stunned by the purity, the wonder, the glow—
A beauty so profound that only heaven could know.
I stood in awe, my heart filled with delight,
Bathed in the warmth of that glorious light.
The night I went to heaven—what a sight to behold!
A story of wonder that my soul will forever hold.
I saw angels rejoicing, their faces serene,
And people at rest in a world so clean.
Words cannot capture the glory I witnessed,
My spirit still trembles, my heart still in awe.
So I thank God for that moment so rare,
For the night I went to heaven—and knew He was there.
The cries of laughter
Echoed in the dark
A stream of blood
Flowed beneath the floor
Followed with a scream of pain
That pierced through the veins
And a smile on her face
Which cannot be erased
Silence filled the room
So with the doom
Tears dwelled up in her eyes
Along with the bitter taste of her life
A knife graced her skin
And she was happy to let it in!
Is it enough, the constant
Abuse of words homeward
On all mind and attackers if better
The worthing of my sleepy eyelids
Shantee dwelled eyelids
Of humans assembled against that I alone
Creating terror in silence
Witness criminology from affronted dishonor
Boundary as military parallel and in stilled eye single remorse I'll not review in news
Years begat war none speak of the front lines
All will myself lonely into the trench
As yesterday you will wake up tomorrow forgotten of being past the freedom of a single vote, literally, in time
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