The Christian who preaches
death and destruction, End
Times, is little better than the
Tyrant who says, do as the
state says, or suffer the consequences --
we are no good to heaven if we
arrive there for fear of damnation.
No sane father, beyond the years
of a child’s early development, wants his child
to fear him. Love but not fear. Love
and fear cannot coexist. Sin wants
us to fear. Love does not. Dropping
bombs or dropping damnation are one
in the same. It is man’s way, and not
the way of our nurturing God. Love
is the Light and Way of a harmonic
universe....
Written: June 26, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Joseph May
**************
More bright than brain, the mirror gleams,
yet darkness hides, within its beams;
dazzling light now, adorns the pane —
the mirror gleams, more bright than brain.
Clear heat or blood, with facet glow,
grace adorns pane, dazzling light now —
yet truth reminds, grief hits with thud;
with facet glow, clear heat or blood,
Kaleidoscope scenes — plague the mind,
Grief hits with thud, yet truth reminds
this grim, brooding day, does it mean —
plague the mind — kaleidoscope scenes
From true figure— how mirrors stray,
does it mean — this grim, brooding day;
the silver glass might grant veneer —
how mirrors stray, from a true sphere
There is a convict king..An omnivore
Who eats the atrocious, yet showed
A brother the door' for lesser offences?
Though bad no doubt.' He's also put in the shade, by dark pontifs, where is the
Righteous shout ? The hue and cry.' The
potus's call.? The vigilant news corps
When did things fall.? Perhaps when the
Serpent slithered hugging the tree that
Held all knowledge, through as a mist i
See.? A form of growth a system that
Branches rich in foliage, yet that covers
Your chances..Lost in wonder of what can
Be by man-made.? Muscles become lax, as
So dense the messaging under this type of shade.)
You came from dark hibernation of cold
with sun-starved chilled memory shadows old.
To melt your gelid gloom
I fired hearth of my room,
livened by warmth you perked up in my fold.
Deep ache in my heart lies
A sorrowful shade spreads in all nooks of my room
Hot tears rise
The sun shines bright
Still my life is filled with deep gloom
Upright,
My plight
Vouchsafed to doom`s
Blight
Deep ache in my heart lies
Still my life is filled with deep gloom
Blight
foggy day in may
my lottery ticket fate
high water in yard
She saw everything in shades of black
Nothing seemed to touch her bitter heart
A dark cloud followed above her head
She wouldn’t or couldn’t crack a smile
Permanent shadows overtook her mind
Her so-called friends avoided her
She envied everyone’s good fortune
Bad luck and misfortune were on her tail
She let on that she couldn’t understand
But we all recognized a magnet’s power
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Oatmeal on cold autumn mornings
Coffee to warm our insides
Together we plan our day
Outdoors awaits in spite of gloominess
Barren fields out our window
Easy invitation that’s quite compelling
Rainclouds will hold off today
AP: 1st place 2026
Gloom blooms as more bombs boom;
Even saints are tainted by crimson stains.
Fears tear through cradle-cries,
And withered blood floods the clustered gutters.
A prowl of projectiles surrounds their bounds;
Wounds whine on a round ground.
Pleas fail to heal the skin’s impetigo—
As silence stains the lens.
Then violence dons another garment,
While silence lies dormant;
Cries from festered wounds pry the dry, wry air,
As echoes crawl along.
All goes to soothe egos,
They boast with coats of loathes in floated boats,
In self-conceit concerts,
They celebrate nothing, noting no woe.
Wicked wicks don’t wink weak,
They sow discord and spit splintered discourse,
They supplant hate as baits,
And their words plunge the world to more dangers.
Peace peeks through a bombed hole at round tables,
Yet war speaks through their mouths;
Those who would quell the spell still sow their guile,
While skies scold, souls lie cold.
Illegible inscription,
dilapidated tombstones
- bleeding black roses
Gray granite,
characterized by melancholy
Over fourteen years ago pop culture told us
We’d only have twelve years to survive
Due to the existential threat of climate change.
Today I see a new prediction
That within two years AI will go rogue
And humanity will be extinct within the decade.
And it reminds me again, people may be wrong,
But you never know, and yet can never go wrong,
To not worry, be happy and live for today.
(8/12/25)
Contest: vibrations from a verso
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: 24th July, 2025
Placement: third
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A dark cloak wraps the sky
Draped in deep gloom
Blind to starlight's bright glare
Fear grips each ghost
Running helter skelter
Their time of doom
Lies ahead in the night
Fear at each post!
Crumbling slowly,
Dilapidated walls,
Dimming glow,
Fading light.
Incoherent speeches,
Unarranged thoughts,
Cluttered path,
Cramped room.
Unread journal,
Unfinished pieces,
Weary bodies,
Deep slumber.
Gloomy day,
Veiled light,
Hidden colours,
Pervading darkness.
Unwritten story,
Masked glory.
June 7, 2025.
To that shadowed city round
Come those that are sorrow bound
In their multitudes alas
Through a Terminus so vast
For a city grim enabling
Their eternal laboring
From the parapets looking down
Cold and timid souls abound
To shed their tears in torment rife
That shed they not for all their life
And from the masses on the wall
Does that gentle misery fall
It stains the heights in colors woe
And settles heavily on those below
Who join the marchers in their toil
Redemption seekers one and all
They wail and walk an endless path
Divined here by no mortal wrath
Their tribute to a city sown
By their tears and ghastly moans
For they seek in the hereafter
What risk rewards and all its laughter
For they in life with trouble severe
Found not the will to persevere
And made a choice by many before
To embrace a simple life and ignore
The treasures offered and wisdom attained
That adversity's teaching hand ordained
The Space Between Hands
Always left alone in the corner of the room,
Often wondering if something’s missing in the gloom.
Head down, tears falling — can’t stop the flow,
Sobbing in silence, hoping no one will know.
Never reaching the end with someone in stride,
Letting go halfway, with no goodbye implied.
Then surrender comes, with the whisper, “Go ahead?”
But “why?” still circles, stuck in my head.
Never enough — maybe never meant to win,
Always the loser before things begin.
Still, even if it’s dark and uneven ground,
Someone will stay, and their silence is sound —
Not just a dream I made up to be found.
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