There was an autumn storm approaching as winds picked up
The river water was rising, inching closer to the top of the bridge
The crimson leaves blowing off the trees as the storm raged
I lacked the courage to cross that bridge; would I get back if needed?
It felt like my relationship, turbulent, dangerous and drowning
Do I end it or cross that bridge once more, to talk once more?
The water is rising, my anxiety is building, danger beckons me
I turn around and attempt to leave as my phone starts to ring
I impulsively throw it across the bridge into the rising water
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Storm
Emotion: Courage
Color: Crimson
Season: Autumn
Form: Blank Verse
Object: Bridge
Verb: Rise
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
By noon the autumn sky has turned to rust.
A crimson dust has settled on my tongue.
Across the dark valley, I feel the storm;
My body turns towards the sheltered door.
And yet I cannot make myself go back.
There is a space between the wish to hide
And that first step beyond the reach of home.
I need not lose my fear to take a step.
The thunder breaks. I flinch beneath its force.
My hands still shake; the wind has not grown kind.
I feel my frightened self begin to rise,
Then let the breath I hold escape at last.
No bridge of stone can cross the space between
The fear I feel and what I need to do.
I lift my foot above the sodden leaves
And step into the storm on trembling feet.
Unlike Alice in Wonderland
we've landed in a cartoon reality and
America seems now much like Gotham City.
Chaos and mayhem reign.
The criminals are running rampant.
Liars and deceivers rule the media.
We're inundated with fake news
that would have us believe all is okay.
But we live in fear wishing it was all a nightmare.
We wonder how it ever got this bad
but more importantly with bated breath
we await the coming of our hero.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
The crowded room muffles to a gentle hum, indecipherable against the pounding of my mind. Watching others swiftly glide across the floor making the dance appear so simple, maintaining a steady rhythm and fancy footwork to impress the crowd. A winning performance will achieve accolades galore.
Standing on the sidelines now
Insidious anxieties rise
Deluging senses
Questioning one's own ability
To remember with accuracy and flare
The right steps for this, the Dance of Life
It is dark in here
and I really fear
I’ve run out of things to say.
Sameness taunts me,
shameness haunts me,
I have lost the will to pray.
I am off the track,
my pen is slack,
I have nothing to relay.
Nobody has,
nobody does,
it’s all been said before.
Steal an idea,
make it appear
it stepped out of your front door.
They’ll think that it’s yours
and as sky-ward it soars
they’ll even come for more.
But don’t talk of doom,
of despair and gloom
and how your soul slowly dies.
They don’t wish to know
your personal inferno,
instead, just feed them lies.
Lies they’ll understand;
stories of dreamland,
alibis and lullabies.
Give them at any cost
the hope that you’ve lost
and the love you no longer feel.
Make believe it is spring,
praise everything,
let them think your verse is real.
Your sorrow don’t share,
beware, oh, beware,
nothing to reveal.
He stalks his victims along the Seine
but only beneath a hushed full moon.
In the morning, thinking back
people report they heard
in the distance creepy moans of werewolves.
Meanwhile the elusive culprit still at large,
the moon pleads ignorance.
AP: 1st place 2026
You swallow the words before they reach your tongue,
a quiet surrender disguised as patience.
You let the silence settle in the room,
assuming it was meant to be there all along.
The door stays shut because you never reached for the handle.
You convince yourself it’s locked,
standing on the threshold,
building a wall out of everything you refused to say.
It feels safer to stay still than to risk a falling out,
so you accept the outcome you constructed in your head—
a shadow box of scenarios where you always lose,
crafted entirely by your own doubt.
To turn away without speaking
is to sign off on the verdict yourself.
You hand over your agency to hesitation
and call it bad luck.
The distance between what is real
and what might have been
is just the silence you chose to keep,
a line you drew and never crossed.
In the end, the world only gives you
the exact emptiness you handed it,
leaving you to wonder if the answer was always no,
or if you just made it so.
Yesterday we rose and today we fall
Today we fall and morrow we rise
We are on today, morrow we are off
We walked and trampled on the earth now and then, the earth mounts heaps on us
Today we mount the stage as heroes
And the next with flooded faces of sorrowful tear we are mourned as helpless victims
The strength of our boldness is the weakness of our frailty
Though the rain be so gentle on the turf , the much of it ,
Is the flood that causes the destruction of the beautiful vegetation
What is done is what is undone
Striving endlessly to catch the emptiness of life
Sometimes, the undecided and the most decided of life,
Are our pains.
We fear to lose our lives and not venture the dreaded den of gold
And lose the life in the tranquil of our sheer timidity
Those we love are those that love to hate us
Those whose arms we confined are the transmitter of our deepest secrets
The arms of whom we are safe are the arms of whom we are betrayed
The conquered and the conqueror are victims.
A gradually setting sun,
In denial for night to fall,
A frightening eternity, despite the attempting stars.
Returning presence of despair,
concludes absence of the light.
Ominous signals from the receptor of a pseudo reality
That there’s no more collagen left to repair
To hold your heart back together;
to deem you warm
For those whom the sun will rise for,
for those who see the stars
Hate them.
The stars are dead anyway
Your biggest star appears to be, too
Some find comfort in the cool wind
But you know,
you’ll forever be in this blizzard
The cracks of a voice spill as your head rests on my shoulder
As I face forward,
and your eyes, behind me.
Our arms wrapped one another,
you dig for the warmth
although it is already surrounding you
But you’re in the glaciers, now
The receptor proves to remain on cooldown
For I, am an attempting star.
Everywhere you turn an opportunity
To rise and shine
But with every rise the potential to fall
And so with such abundance
And opportunity at our fingertips
We have become a nation of fearful
Nervous Nellies
Under a sky perpetually falling
Health, wealth, friends, family, environment
Each rich and just waiting to be mined
For all that can go wrong
Don’t even think of leaving the safety
Of your secure little nest
With its confirmation biases
And tunnel visions
A wild world awaits
Ready, willing and able
To eat you whole
Better to just stay inside
In the confines of your own safe space
And consume as much fear-p*rn
As you possibly can
It is your only hope, your only chance
To keep the wolves at bay.
And for your children?
Well, if you’ve been foolish enough
To take that route
And so take the tumble
Down that rabbit hole,
Don’t let them out of your sight,
Keep them plugged in and tuned out
And everything will be alright.
(10/2/30)
stalked by bloody clown
my fear is palatable
theres nowhere to hide
I needed it, a newly found start
To sit by the ocean
relieve my blue heart
mugged of my delusions
Harshly thrown into reality
Overthinking
really makes me lose my sanity
Old worries leave
New troubles await
Thy Sane brain needs a break
For at rest it thinks
If I were a changed soul
Would things be different
Would I be whole
I needed it, a newly found start
To sit by the ocean
relieve my blue heart
mugged of my delusions
Harshly thrown into reality
Overthinking
really makes me lose my sanity
Old worries leave
New troubles await
Thy Sane brain needs a break
For at rest it thinks
If I were a changed soul
Would things be different
Would I be whole
I needed it, a newly found start
To sit by the ocean
relieve my blue heart
mugged of my delusions
Harshly thrown into reality
Overthinking
really makes me lose my sanity
Old worries leave
New troubles await
Thy Sane brain needs a break
For at rest it thinks
If I were a changed soul
Would things be different
Would I be whole
I know how tragic it has been,
sitting and waiting to feel sin.
Not looking for a gentleman
it’s me again, it’s me again.
My flames blazing aquamarine,
do you miss me behaving mean?
Proud to direct a horror scene
keeping it clean, keeping it clean.
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