whatever the change of season
I’m happy for no rhyme or reason
A boy walks slow through halls of glass,
His shadow flickers, thin as grass.
Each step a secret, each breath a theft,
Of hunger’s war and weightless heft.
They whisper when they think he’s gone,
“Is he okay? He looks withdrawn.”
But laughter fades when backs are turned,
And eyes like his are never learned.
His plate remains a battlefield—
Each bite a blade, each meal unsealed.
He counts the crumbs like ticking clocks,
His ribs a cage, his soul in locks.
Inside, a storm no one can see,
A gut that groans in mutiny.
IBS, a cruel refrain,
Twisting joy into quiet pain.
His friends? Just echoes in disguise,
With hollow jokes and plastic eyes.
They smile sharp, then look away—
He’s present, but he’s not okay.
They call him “buddy,” slap his back,
Then laugh the moment that he cracks.
Lonely, yet he's never alone,
A ghost among his flesh and bone.
He’s drained—of hope, of strength, of care,
A paper boy in poisoned air.
Yet no one sees what’s underneath,
The brittle scream behind his teeth.
And so he walks, a whispered name,
Fading into his hollow frame.
Each day a mask, each night a sea,
Of pain no soul will ever see.
Your eyes?
They're like midnight — not stars, just... midnight.
Dark, full of something I can't name.
I get lost there. I always do.
It’s frustrating, kind of thrilling too.
Your smile? Trouble.
The kind I’d trip over twice and still chase.
It hangs in the air after you leave —
Like perfume or a half-finished thought.
I hate how much I replay it.
Your lips —
They look like they keep too many secrets.
And somehow, even silence looks good on you.
When you pout, it’s ridiculous.
Seriously, stop that. (Don’t.)
That cheek of yours,
pressed against your palm like the day got too heavy —
and I swear I felt the world slow down.
You weren't posing. That’s the worst part.
You just are.
Every glance, every pause —
you’ve got this... poetry thing,
like you don’t even know you’re writing it.
You don’t try. You just... happen.
And I keep wishing you’d happen to me.
Somehow among the hidden leaves of time
when quietude swerves on a lane,
there is a throb of evening's breath
panting inside those marble eyes
that if I gaze long enough into darkness
your iced look will blink,
to open windows that are locked
by hinges creating angst enmeshed.
The distant screams paint your irises
jutting out from a frame of hard lids
buried deeply on frigid weeds---
and the night loses its elegance
while your crystal tears invade the glow
in the lamp of your eyes-- I understand
how private this time is when you
fade away...knowing not I am there.
First Place
“When after the freezing time of gloom vibrant colors sprout,
I get gems of cheer from the spring scenery”- By Poet
As the air ripples with the rhythmic joy of spring,
the melodic whisper of the southern wind
serenades with the tune of rapturous rhapsody.
The sinking sun sets ablaze in twilight
the sedate skyline in the cold fire of color,
as the hued flimsy fleet of cloud clumps sail.
Pearls of opalescent dew bejewel the meadow,
the bent blades of green grass shimmer,
wearing the sparkling crown of pearly splendor.
The mist drifts away from the spotless lucent sky,
that turns into silken canvas of shining sapphire,
as in the barren boughs the satin leaves sprout.
The buds burst with colors from the winter freeze,
unfurl the fresco of flowers where butterflies flitter.
My window frames the beautiful spring scenery.
golden moments kept in frames ~ turn seconds into lifetimes
I’m not for every eye to see,
a quiet truth that lives in me.
Steady in heart, grounded and whole,
I guard the light within my soul.
I may not bend to each demand;
my roots hold firm where I stand.
Through scars and stumbles, I claim the road,
guided by courage to bear the load.
If I don’t fit the world’s tight mold,
I’ll shape my life with hands untold,
for I’m not bound to every frame,
and what I am won’t fear the flame.
The shadow I cast on the corridor wall
Covers my father’s radiant photo frame
Night’s transcripts are saved on the iron chest
Stacking the secrets tied in bundles
Apologies are like incense sticks and the
truths are ever scrawled on my arid skin
I want to talk but my voice down and down
till it becomes barely a whisper
It is one of those nights when I can't
Close my eyes and sleep in tranquility
Moreover moonlight wants to dance on the shaky railings and try to slip inside
I want to reach out and take his hand
Each moment waiting its own turn to go back
I can smell
the scent of my youth
the breeze of summer
only me and you
draging my wonky past
and my twisted truths
I didn't know back then
how little I knew....
Today I wake up
no much have changed
I'm still insecure
and I respond to my name,
the imagen in the mirror
gives my wrinkles a frame
nothing is that different
but nothing is the same...
It is hard for me to believe
that I was alone all this time
wandering like a ghost
on the streets of my life
not knowing if I existed
or if I was a walking lie
who was dreaming the dream
of being alive.
Jessica
Freeze Frame is a part of the game,
When your running life’s great test.
When you take stock you gotta learn to rock,
You’ll be rolling with the best.
Life is just a movie film and your the star of the screen,
It’ll take you to the places where the glitters never seen.
The camera rolls and the lights are bright.
You try to look your best,
But as life goes on the lights go dim,
Do you think you pass the test.
Life is just a movie film and your the star of the screen,
It’ll take you to the places where the glitters never seen.
You got your name in lights, but you had to fight,
But you always did your best,
The stage doors closed and it’s time to go,
But you stood out from the rest.
Life is just a movie film and your the star of the screen,
It’ll take you to the places where the glitters never seen.
The make up slips and the hair goes thin,
You still try to look your best,
Your an old man now and you’ve seen it all,
You’ve given life your best.
Now the credits run and your time is done,
You’ve finished life’s great test,
The screen goes black, there’s no looking back.
It’s time for you to rest.
i nominate green
foul
the referee didn't hear me
the opponent accuses me of the same
he therefore,
can -
no longer -
use my extension
in fact i'm not using it either
i'm off home to
throw cue balls
at
the
moon
Empty picture frame
I have a frame with no photo or picture inside
I don't want a photo there because my past has died
I look at this which reflects my feelings and emotion
I can only fill it with a face that brings happiness and fortune
When you lose things that brings meaning to your life
Every day is empty and filled with loneliness and strife
The knowledge that I did nothing to make things go wrong
Brings more pain and my heart sings the saddest song
I feel as though I have been laid down to rest
Because loving you is like taking each living breath
You who gave me joy and pain I call by name
You are the reason, and you are my empty picture frame.
By Cathrin Stuart
he watches me and whispers, come- then ... I am within the frame with him
We're moving into a new frame of faith,
Into a future that's yet to unfold,
A new pace of faith we embrace,
Leaving behind what we cannot hold.
Seasons change, we can’t be the same,
On our path, a divine meeting awaits,
In God's presence, we find our aim,
And our hearts, He gently reforms.
He's the great I AM we can trust,
Our hope for the future untold,
With favour resting on us,
We're drawing many to His fold.
We are one-of-a-kind, uniquely designed,
A demonstration of faith's unique grace,
Let go of the past, leave biases behind,
And watch the fire inside of us ablaze.
Janet Frame 'THE CLOWN
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