OF AND IN POETIC GARDENING
(Apropos Of A Tanka Flow)
First, plow free your mind,
Then sow liberating seeds;
Letting others reap:-
Cultivating mentally,
Fertilizes destiny:-
Gardening poets,
Continue to plow and sow
Inspiring word-seeds:
Germinating reaped wisdom
Fruited with navigation:-
Poetic farmers,
Laboring in works of love,
Keep nourishing us
With those cistern-juices flow
From your gardens’ word-fruits:-
Through this vast world,
In the onederful oneness
Of fruiting onement,
Praises to farming poets,
For flowing fruiting fullness:-
brushstrokes across canvas of mine
flow smoother and mellower with wine
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
time is a river flowing
it lets nothing stand in its way
~ obstinately speeds in one direction
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
SILLY BUT TRUE: A TANKAING FREE
FLOW OF THE STATE OF OUR NATION
Tariffing power,
With screwworm-like politics
Coopering our lives
Uprooting our lives:
Uprooting human justice,
Tree barking dread injustice:-
Military law,
Takes on nationwide control;
Policing all life:
Modern day monarchy times;
POTUS becoming king:-
Peace soon lay to rest;
The DOD, soon to be
The new DOW:
Download Other Wars coming,
As well as the new Red House:-
Yes, autocracy,
Displacing democracy,
Freely echoing
Power to do whatever
It wants to do, and will do!
Silly as it sounds,
All of this is as true as
The sun and the moon:
A true living reflection
Of the state of our nation:-
Fragrant
spring blooms
swaying
in breeze
invites
insects
to sip
Sizzling
summer
weather
makes you
want to
take a
cool dip
Autumn
colors
blazing
brightly
with leaves
of red
and gold
Winter
brings us
snowflakes
freezing
weather
its breath
is cold
OF LIFE AND DEATH TODAY: A 5-7-5-7-7-7-5-7-5-7 FLOW
(Apropos Of An Ironic Juxtaposed Reality)
Ironically,
it’s cheaper to live than die:
Save, self-cremation:-
Even then, you must pay for
The ashes to be cleaned up:-
And don’t forget, the family
Is charged to pay off all debts
That you may have left behind:-
Ironically,
We are born to live and die,
Life, being cheaper:
Funerals are expensive!
In the depths of silence, thoughts flow like underground rivers,
where the moonlight stops to rest its weary wings,
and time seems an illusion, a grain of sand lost in the hourglass of eternity,
here, in the heart of silence, the thoughtful man crafts his own universe.
There is no rest for the thinker, only endless journeys,
among the shadows of memories and unfulfilled dreams that smolder quietly,
in a silent dance, in the depths of the mind, where silence sings,
and each moment becomes a new beginning, an unwritten poem.
Those who watch from afar do not know that in stillness life pulses,
that in each breath lie entire worlds, unspoken and infinite,
and in the depths of apparent nothingness, constellations of thoughts ignite,
where the thoughtful man finds his greatest activity.
In the shadow of silence, where only the echo of thoughts can penetrate,
lie the secrets of the universe, understood only by those who know how to listen,
and in this dance of silence, the esoteric magic of creation is born,
for only silence can reveal what noise conceals.
Smooth moves
rivers perform
with intuitive flow.
Even when storms cause them to churn,
their God bequeathed responses are right on.
Not so, emotions in my heart,
besieging my faith's hold.
My needs pursue
smooth flows.
Some thoughts on the subject of going with the flow.
Some different viewpoints that you may want to know.
Don’t fight against the current it knows where it should go.
It avoids the obstacles dashing to and fro.
How should we see a person going with the flow?
They may be seen as lazy or even just slow.
Pitching the oars in the river, nothing to do.
Kickback in the boat and just see what will ensue.
Life requires joining our energy with others,
Let the current be our sisters and our brothers.
Tap into the consensus, set our goals anew.
Take a deeper look into other people’s view.
Acknowledge my thoughts are not better than the rest.
Accept the composite of the group’s thoughts are best.
Going with the flow is turning me into we,
Allows the current to be what it’s meant to be.
In the mystery of the unknown, where thoughts flow like a river,
my being seeks innocence, unknown even to myself,
I am free, at last, to be silent, to bathe
in the quiet of your promise of promises,
like the pear tree in the garden, which feels beauty,
but never asks why such splendor is here.
On monsoon days, full of rain and longing,
locked within, yearning to explore the seas and the galaxy,
the tree beseeches the rain with a silent plea,
not to be judged by your deep gaze,
like a solitary companion who remembers,
my name scratched on the asylum walls,
as I was letting go of ideals,
I saw in the forest the tumult of life,
the remorse of a nymph who was once a virgin,
the stars were there, but of accidental origin.
In cosmic solitude, we seek unseen connections,
the universe calls us through symbols and dreams,
we dance among shadows and lights, seeking meaning,
in the chaos of existence, we lose and find ourselves.
We repeat, like a ritual, the words that become incantation,
archetypal images embrace the soul,
in a hypnotic musicality, we immerse ourselves,
transforming as the poem carries us
into the depths of being, where we find peace and truth.
A swirl of color,
that spoon's stirring casual.
Tidal rotation,
moon drunk on a tie-dyed sky.
Easygoing, just flow slow.
Follow the flow of the Tees
Meet the folk whose sweat
and tears shaped the land,
brought in the bounty,
shifted the steel to build
Better places.
Follow the flow of the Tees.
Meet the people who fish
in peace. Look for a seal or two.
See them bobbing, watching you
watching them. Observe them catching the
rays of the sun on the sand.
Follow the flow of the Tees
Day dream on the swirls and foam,
a moving picture on top of the murky depths.
Who would care to venture down?
Not me. I enjoy watching the wildlife
busy foraging for food as I pass by,
following the flow of the Tees.
In the depths of the evening, where thoughts flow like rivers of trembling light,
the sky stretches its amber arms, embracing silence in cloaks of dreams,
and my steps are echoes of falling stars, dancing on carpets of time,
for to be deciphered means to scatter your essence into unknown winds.
I prefer to be a floating illusion on the ocean of misunderstood shadows,
where each moment is an unpolished diamond, hidden in the night of eternity,
and my mystery is a symphony of whispers waltzing under the moonlight,
keeping my soul a sanctuary untouched by the curious eyes of the world.
In the secret garden of my heart, dreams bloom with sapphire petals,
their fragrance is a silent song, an unfulfilled longing floating in the night's air,
where each silence is a verse written on the fragile parchment of destiny,
for I prefer to remain a shadow gliding through the tapestry of silent stars,
where my echoes are silver threads woven into the tapestry of time,
and the cloak of anonymity is a veil of mystery that gently envelops me,
allowing me to be an unseen traveler on the paths of endless dreams,
tasting the sweetness of the freedom to be just a thought floating free.
The river moves but never dies,
It carries all it cannot keep.
Beneath its glass, the silence lies,
A cradle where the old dreams sleep.
I watch it wind through stone and silt,
A silver ribbon pulled by time.
It bears the weight of love and guilt,
And every joy we failed to climb.
I see my face in trembling glass,
A thousand selves the waters hold.
I see the lives I let slip past,
The words unsaid, the hands left cold.
The river whispers soft and low,
It tells of storms it once endured.
It tells me there is room to grow,
That broken paths can be assured.
It teaches me to yield, not break,
To carry scars but still move on.
To weave the heartache and the ache
Into the light of every dawn.
It remembers what we forget:
The way the smallest stones can steer,
The way we carry quiet debt,
The weight of every vanished year.
And as it bends and drifts away,
I learn the art of soft release.
The river takes, the river stays,
And leaves behind a wordless peace.
Advocate of rent control and $30 minimum wage
Free public transportation! Zohran Mamdani’s a media-appointed Sage
For all illegal immigrants, full privileges and rights
Defund the police, let NYC’s streets flow with blood every night
O, how excited New Yorkers are about this fresh-faced progressive
They won’t dare complain about everything there will be less of
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