Pain creeped in with the early hours of the morning,
I was doubled over in pain.
As I was screaming,
my dad was wrapping me in a blanket.
Off to the hospital he sped,
then carrying me through the big doors.
My appendix was about to burst open,
emergency surgery was for me.
The day I arrived
in my own good time
(not at all shy)
neither early nor late
13th July
I remember it well
t'was a memorable date
as a present from my parents
(their pride and joy a baby boy)
a Wednesday I recall
some time in the morn
the best day of my life after all
for it was the one
on which I was born
When going to school at a tender age,
The little girl would put on her socks and shoes,
Give her parents a goodbye kiss,
And run out with her school bag and lunchbox,
A smile upon her face, filled with joy and happiness,
Excited to learn a new word from her teacher.
Days turned into months,
And months into years,
Until finally came her graduation day—
The day she would leave those beautiful school days behind.
Afterward, her school uniform and school necessities
Rested quietly in the wardrobe,
Becoming memories of her beautiful early days.
She looked at them, sighed, and said,
"Indeed, this is where you finally ended,
After being with me through my beautiful early days." ??
A wind blew the leaves
The boughs of the trees
Were swaying the leaves
Were dancing to and froe
One leaf was falling
Slowly to the ground
The color of the leaf
Was a bright red shade
the autumn season
is early this year
Teach your son a trade
one that’s light and clean
Acquired skills rarely fade
if learned as a teen
If you can’t teach him
hire someone who can
So, he will punch his own ticket
once he’s a full-blown man
green turns into gold
in summer’s twilight shimmer
blaze before decay
our leaves are falling early
will either of us see snow
Note about the poem:
Written, Agust,1 2026
For The Contest, “Eight By Eight" - Theme, "Fog"
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud.
The early morning fog thickened
as we climbed up the great mountain
one could barely see their own hand
but the air was pleasantly cool
The walk was slow for fear of pits,
snakes, scorpions, wild animals
After a while, we saw sunlight
beautiful thick fog was below
your beacon of light
spanning across the ocean
as sailors awake
I can’t get out of bed
that drink went to my head
will I lose my job today and become famous instead?
There’s spots sprawled on my skin
I’m not looking thin
competition for exhaustion, that’s the one I’ll win
There’s someone on my case
friends forget my face
I think they’re tired of me and my a thousand states
I need a new job because this can’t be all there is
there’s a boy over there, who wishes I were his
I hate what’s in my wardrobe
I have nothing to wear
I’ve had this job for more than two years
yet I still wake up scared
I complain about my status
like I don’t run away
from actually being liked, from people who will stay
I change my hair colour like it’s really a fresh start
I trade my problems for polyester when I press add to cart
I’m volatile and dangerous
I’m soft and I’m too kind
I’m forever chasing myself when it’s myself I can’t find
I posted two poems and recieved hardly any comments for months i think.'? Then
I recieved two then five, then the vast ammount of 70 views, i felt a lot better
It was such great news." And i got more
Comments and even more views.)
It’s early July and what’s happening is
The weather’s so hot it will make your hair frizz
And perhaps even ruin that cold champagne fizz
At Taylor and Kelce’s “I do’s.”
Abe Lincoln sits gazing at water, now green,
With algae the worst anybody had seen
And you-know-who claiming his conscience is clean –
It’s vandals that one should accuse.
The National Mall has a Giant State Fair
But somehow the crowds aren’t showing up there.
Performers pulled out, for they’d rather be where
They’re not forced to air you-know-who’s views.
Though the temps may be broiling, an obvious fact,
And the wedding at Madison Square will distract,
The sad truth is the soon-to-be 4th has been stacked
With so much that it’s hard to enthuse.
For our country’s divided on every stage,
Which will make it a challenge for us to engage
And beneath all the fireworks, sorrow and rage
Will infuse all the red, white, and blues.
For this day I shout an enormous hooray
I am meeting my friends to laugh and play
They are seventy-eight and seventy-seven today
As welcoming as most angels in heaven I'd say
I burned twenty-two boxes in my driveway
hot sooty gray and orange ashes were flying my way
I am wearing a green t-shirt with daisies gay
At ten-thirty I have accomplished a lot today!
This was a planned outing; but I did it my way
I got there two hours early; what can I say?
I never could read a clock with numbers gray
I am horrible at numbers, I hate math, okay?
darkness moves like a
mast's head across the sky, before
whitewashed fisher falls under the sun.
pink and orange still cry ebony —
with her sky's waves I try to run;
colors can't kiss for my tongue,
and hidden oars are burned on the clock's dock,
pass her fins, can't fly, on blue lungs.
the sky's shoulders that were shaded with dark
are now heavy with morning birds, that sing
and dead dreams; too much light
for waking innocent eyes —
am the thought
that forgets its own ending
mid-sentence
like a candle
learning the shape of darkness
before it learns to burn.
I arrive softly
uninvited by sleep
wearing your name
like a borrowed coat
and still
I don’t fit in it.
In the theater of your mind
I take my place too early
miss my cue
watch the curtain fall
on a stage
I never got to stand on.
Even hope looks at me
and says “not today”
as if I am a letter
addressed to a future
that keeps returning me
unopened.
So I fold myself
into quieter things
the pause before a breath
the space between heartbeats
the almost
that never becomes anything.
And still
I exist.
morning
still and quiet
dewdrops drip onto ground
oozing into dry crusty earth
early
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