They own the applause,
but the Lord authored the light.
Many my mates born this day—
some gone,
some sick,
some wrestling quiet miseries.
Yet here I stand tall,
not in height,
but in faith
for all the Lord has made me witness.
A year better than the former.
My despair ripening into greatest expectation.
I look down memory lane,
tracing how it all began—
from one, to five, to ten, to fifteen, to twenty…
and now, the present calling.
Cheers to a year carrying certain questions
still unnamed.
Its enigmas shape the puzzle,
nudging me along the road to positivity.
Cheers to the paths I took
when they felt right in my chest.
Cheers to adapting, learning, observing,
and the quiet art of unlearning.
Alas— I do not say this often:
when I swing by your heart,
a prayer worthy
is all I ask of you.
— Afolalekan
A noiseless and velvet night,
Moonlight grace upon the sea,
Whispering toward the stars,
Enigmas of the profound.
Shadows shifting quickly,
Directed without a fraction,
Leaving the world to ponder,
Concerning the additional place.
Shroud of eclipse,
Where murmurs are cloaked in velvet firmament,
And valor clings to breath held tight-
The cosmos halts in reverence.
Shroud of eclipse,
Where enigmas thrum within spectral gleam,
And destiny reweaves its primordial thread-
A lone ember dares awaken.
Shroud of eclipse,
Where umbral trials forge tempered spirits,
And hope is clad in dusk-wrought steel-
The precipice of metamorphosis.
Ascension of glory,
From the sable clasp of night emerges the soul,
Its vision refined in light's retreat-
A conflagration reborn.
Ascension of glory,
The veil unravels, the hush is shattered,
And triumph, sovereign and incandescent
Devours the vestiges of darkness.
The man holds the snake and dances with it
It is a complete new constellation with new meaning
A house full of mysteries and enigmas yet to be understood
You think you'd have known by now as I lead by example
You are truly blind and yet I can see your lusty eyes preying on me
You are yet to understand what being chosen truly means
If I were you I would simply leave me alone
I will try to perform the ritual and you will be my sacrifice
The illustrative sky painter,
Draping celestial seascapes,
Aurora, the nighttime dancer,
Stream across the penumbra stars,
A spectral emerald curtain,
Whispering cosmic enigmas,
A scintillating, breath-filled awe,
The North’s energetic spirit.
~The breath drawn deep is but a borrowed stay,
~~A fleeting spark within the endless night,
~~~~Where light and shadow's. in a silent play,
~Will fade and flicker, in the morning light.
~~~~~~~The bud unfurls, a vibrant splash of green,
~Bloom in sunlight, then wilt in autumn's chill;
~~~~~~~~~~~~ragile beauty on a fleeting scene,
~~~~~~~~Caroming seasons on a lonely hill.
~~~~~~~~~~~So man appears, a whisper in the wind,
~~~ A passing thought in time's unconcerned hand,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A story written, ultimately sinned,
~ ~~~~~~~~~Before the final grains of silver sand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~We rise and fall, as ocean's restless tide,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Where the universe enigmas reside.
Through the veil of mist, stars weave stories in whispers of silver,
Illuminating the path of shadows dancing on the edge of the dream.
Rivers of time flow through valleys of memories forgotten by the world,
Where each moment weeps its tale in echoes of longing.
Trees stretch their arms toward the sky full of enigmas,
In their foliage, the wind sings ballads of lost hearts.
The moon, queen of the night, spreads her veil over our dreams,
While silence dresses the earth in its cloak of mystery.
Beneath the sleeping earth, roots seek sources of truth,
While the flowers of dreams open in the light of the cold moon.
Each star is a hidden wish, an unspoken secret,
In the dark universe where light dances with shadow.
Dawn brings with it a new beginning, but also the end of a dream,
For each morning, the magic of the night is reborn from the ashes.
In our hearts, love weaves its eternal stories,
While time whispers answers from forgotten corners.
The crux of light lies,
deep within its flux of afterglow,
in limbo.
Its will-o'-the-wisp,
Aurora Borealis, and St Elmo's Fire,
Its split into rainbow,
Its red shifts in time travel.
All its enigmas within, urge us to set,
the aftermath of shadows, aglow.
Wholesome humour
reverberates freedom mirth
shared in the family of joy-filled home
making us have a taste of heaven on earth...
Daddy’s jokes champion laughter
easing gloom of loss for triumph-birth
sometimes his riddles keep us chuckling
as his cheerful life enigmas we try to unearth...
Mama’s sense of humour is undeniably funny
letting us praise her midst warmth of fellowship hearth
oh, how I miss those exuberant times
along my reflection of gladness-values' worth.
As we rejoice in the Lord* always
good sense of humour is never a dearth
since it "blunts the sharp blades of reality"
while making us thankful to God for our divine jubilant perth.
June 28, 2025
*Philippians 4:4 Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice.
2nd place, "A Good Sense Of Humour Blunts The Sharp Blades Of Reality" Poetry Writing Contest Sponsored by Natasha L Scragg; judged on /30/2025
What you don't know about writing
is that it doesn't know you,
until the two of you are willing
to stew a mess of your own -
brewing your blood's greatest enigmas
right down to its own bone marrow -
why not say hello,
at least?
In the twilight of my thoughts, a dream is born about girls, enigmas hidden beneath veils,
Smiles that wear velvet masks, concealing truths like treasures,
They whisper love to you, but you will never know how many stories they've lived before,
Nor who sings their hidden desires in the shadows of the night, a dance of secrets.
It's their secret, carefully kept, regardless of the storms passing over the world,
Girls are like a beautiful and mad mystery, a waltz of illusion in steps of mist,
They tell you they love you, but at parting, they may shout their indifference,
For perhaps they are there for the glitter of gold, and you are just a fleeting dream.
When you're with one, know that perhaps four ghosts wait in the shadows,
Do not waste your time, nor give your heart as a flower into their hands,
For they will break it and leave you in the cold darkness,
Like a fairy tale unraveling under its own spell, an echo in a frozen wasteland.
In an Instant 1-23-25 Contest by Craig Cornish
“It is finished!” John 19:30
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In an Instant
Eternity winks in a breath -
Eden wakes from exile –
Seconds split into bits of past and present.
Darkness evaporates – winter and midnight only memories -
As hidden fountains of mercy burst through parched crusts
In places where wild things think they reign.
Time blinks
Eons align, pirouette to partner with change
Space between sin and salvation vanishes,
A fog swept away by infinity.
Black turns to white – blindness to clarity –
In the unconditional – the thunder of revelation.
Wax gods melt into puddles in valleys raised
Where shame tries to strangle angels -
Undressed, riddles and enigmas open mysteries.
Pulled back from pools of fire in Armageddon
Life struts out of separation!
Majesty buries iron rods, chariots and tombs -
As shadows evaporate, chaos rests in resolution
Now steps into know! “It is finished!”
mysterious
auras of intrigue
of
profound spatial
coherence
with
intriguing
themes
in
contemplative
atmospheres
of the light
perplexing enigmas
of
allegoric
symbols
&
hidden meanings
interwoven
in
undisclosed truths
hint
at
an ability
to infuse
with fascination
of the
unsaid
Thin lines blur into your realities
Enigmas unable to be seen blind
The light is shining bright into the tunnel
Do you see me at the bottom of the rabbit hole?
Am I a monster to you - like times of lore?
Would you burn me like they did in yore?
An urn drops dust into a zephyr whirlwind
Petals dance writhing in your oh grin
Creature of the night burned again
For being different deemed a sin
Fore having a different darker opinion
In the fractured realm of trust and broken hearts,
Love suffers, feeding on enigmas.
She, a fragile constellation with a cracked heart,
Thus, we remain, seeking infinity in corners of dreams.
A ballet of the shadows of trust, waves of unrest,
In the quiet of the cosmos, emotions grow like falling stars.
A mind once a halo, now a troubled vortex,
Love traverses the storm of light and stardust.
Echoes of remorse, deep calls from eternity,
A yearning for healing, time weaving on wings of nothingness.
She, once a goddess of the day, now a fragile enigma,
A love forged by the unknown, without the chains of fate.
The weight of my madness, a hidden colossus of fire,
But among the remaining shards, love roams like a moon's murmuring.
A fool, an alchemist lost in labyrinths, seeking redemption,
In the ruins of faith, hope is born like a golden flame.
In the dark abyss, a splinter of magical light,
To restore trust, the hearts that still whisper.
For in the fracture, love weaves like an astral dream,
A never-ending thread, woven from the cloak of stars and chosen eternity.
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