Malaise over cribbage,
Unmade in our image;
While they ravage the earth:
Pestilence First!
The cowards save pride,
Just along for the ride;
And the prophets, they shrug.
Must be '---' tall for a hug.
A mechanical theme.
Set to writhe and teem
Astride strained ambition -
An inherent condition!
And the sole consolation?
The starved man gnaws bacon,
As he snarls at the pork;
Pokes the end of his fork.
Steely disposition.
Love's prohibition.
Swole at the seam,
This American dream.
I feel the plea of your heart, Baby, the tears inside you.
Pain gnaws at you, fear invades you, the cold darkness of the night.
My hand clings to yours, I’m here, my little laughing sun.
My Baby, I’m here, I love you with all my being, diamond of my life.
Your courage shows in your silences, not a single complaint, my sweet angel.
You are fragile and so strong at the same time, my hopes and doubts are here.
Our eyes meet, love shines without a word, everything is gentle and wise.
My arms tighten around you to feel your presence, Baby of mine.
Then I turn my head, my eyes mist over, you are my light.
My heart tightens and my legs grow numb, but I pray.
My words will never say it well enough, or say it poorly — I am proud of you.
My fears, my turmoil, my pleas… oh my little one.
Night gives way to another day, you open your eyes, already smiling.
That beautiful smile of yours — I caress your fingers, you’re here, always here, Baby.
A tender kiss on your hand, my throat tight, I hear myself say it.
Hope, again hope — I want it for you, my love, my Baby.
Joël Charvillat
An empty room that sings,
Songs that open the door to the light,
Songs that heal wounds,
Keeping the night at bay.
An absence that is a presence,
Melancholy is the rhythm of the nothingness,
A silence that conveys different songs,
Two rivers flowing into one body.
An empty room that uncovers memories,
Memories of loneliness and solitude,
Words stream from its depths,
Arranged in lines and verses.
A room that echoes a departure,
A silence that gnaws at the mind.
I step out of the room,
Into the daylight of tranquillity and hope.
August 9, 2026.
sweet shrieks of discord
ring in my ears
i learn to embrace it
i understand comfort is not in your native tongue.
and finally
when silence rings out,
deafening
i smile
the irrevocable disquiet gnaws at my chest
dragging me
down
down
down
and yet again
i return to the floor’s embrace
the sound of its pulse permeating my ears
as i lay
losing mine.
Ice caps of the northern world
Dew drops of the sovereign world
From North to South shall bear in pair
Holding a cistern in open air
Air ruffles in belts and swear
Fair and in pair that never wear
Storks and beasts circling around
Forks and yeasts bubbling in sound
Meat that thaws in empty shells
Peat that gnaws in cognoscenti wells
Wells of minds that hail on waters
Bells in binds that wail on lathers
Days of light that never end
Rays of night that never bend...
i done stacked up cinder blocks to build a wall,
and hid my primary colors in the dark.
i grew so tall I forgot how it felt to fall;
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
the ticking clock gnaws away precious minutes,
meanwhile I trace the scars upon a wooden floor,
I've run out of interesting, adult things to say;
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
wax crayons smudge against my calloused skin,
mixing with the ink of bills and unread mail.
i've grown tired of the mask and the hollow grin,
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
i press my palms against the bathroom glass,
remembering the kid with the grass-stained knees.
I'll stay right here and just let the world pass.
instead, I permit my inner child to cry.
Written: May 3rd 2026, for a contest sponsored by Line Gauthier
2nd place contest winner
*****************
Shadows shiver with the shape of you.
Your ghost-warm whisper cuts straight through.
Memory is a moribund mirror, cracked and cold.
My heart holds your hollow hush, uncontrolled.
Night gnaws softly on what we used to be.
And silence bleeds your absence back into me.
In dim-lit rooms where shadows choke the air,
She rains down fists like thunderbolts unchained,
Her tongue a whip that strips his flesh to bare
The walls absorb her screams; the world remains untrained.
He stands, a battered oak in gale-force scorn,
Each bruise a secret map beneath his skin,
Her venom seeps like poison through the thorn,
While silence carves its canyon deep within.
Yet when he turns, seeks refuge from the flood,
The spineless swarm descends like hungry crows,
“Coward!” they caw, their mockery a bloodied rod,
Defending her while dragging him below.
These brothers, armored in their twisted chivalry,
Forge iron shackles from their shallow pride
They guard the viper’s strike with loyalty,
While he, erased, bleeds out where none abide.
The silent abuse gnaws marrow from the bone:
Not only her wrath, but men who claim the throne
Of enablers, crowning unaccountable queens,
As broken kings are left in shattered scenes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
First, it was the itch~
the kind that lingers
like a word stuck
on the tip of the tongue.
Then came the naming:
I want—soft at first,
a whisper to the dark,
a match struck in an empty room.
But wanting is a seed
with teeth. It gnaws
through doubt’s thin soil,
roots deep in the belly’s heat.
I fed it daylight,
moonlit hours, the salt
of my sweat. I carved
its shape into the air
until the air carved back.
One morning, I woke
and found it kneeling
beside me—real as rain,
heavy as a promise kept.
And I remembered:
every wish was once
a hunger
that refused to starve.
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest: MUSINGS ON A BENCH
Date Posted: 03/16/2026
When despair gnaws, I claim the green throne,
Iron bones worn by ten thousand suns.
I lay my palm—your warmth burns unbidden,
Aroma folds over paint in the air.
A susurrus coils: “Rise, and be made whole, dear heart,”
Fractured self gathers like scattered stars.
Chronos halts; the bench consecrates, eternal,
I ascend, and the cosmos bends to my step.
I'm dying inside, a silent scream,
Masked by mirth, a façade's deceitful dream.
I laugh to conceal the anguish that gnaws,
A desperate attempt to shield my crumbling laws.
No pain, no gain, they say, but oh, the toll,
A heavy heart, a weight that makes me old.
I wear a cloak of calm, a disguise so fine,
A refuge from the prying eyes that mine.
I walk this tightrope, fragile and thin,
A balancing act, lest I succumb to the spin.
Pride's a shield, a flaky armor I don,
A temporary reprieve, till the storm is gone.
But oh, the ache, the desolate night,
When shadows whisper truths, and I'm forced to confront the fight.
No one sees the cracks, the fissures deep,
Just a façade, a pretence, a soul asleep.
I'm dying inside, a slow, suffocating demise,
A prisoner of pride, afraid to vocalize.
The pain is a tempest, wild and untamed,
But who can I tell, and ask, "Am I to blame?"
In this desolate landscape, I search for a spark,
A glimmer of hope, a reason to embark.
For in the darkness, I'll find my strength,
A phoenix rising, reborn, with a new length.
The lower jaw self-unhinges
as the skull gnaws
a recollection of a bygone face,
now it must use the roaming poems
of restless winds
as its surrogate voice.
You kiss that sad cranial dome,
where a forehead once pondered
upon the meaning of everything.
Your eyes are now the very wellspring’s
of a hidden depth, which will always be that
unsolved mystery of you.
Now here in your cupped hands,
you cradle the foolishly grinning remains
wondering if this was God’s first word
or last.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arctic night unfolds~
another of nature's scenes:
hues of blues, swirling greens,
ribbons dance in frozen air,
pulsing light, alive, untamed.
You stand there,
your breath a ghost,
boots sunk in brittle snow.
the cold gnaws, but
you do not shiver.
It is not light you see,
but something older~
the sigh of solar winds
caught in the planet’s grasp.
Can you feel it in your soul?
That pull, that hum,
as if the night itself
is singing back to you.
At that moment,
you are not a human,
but part of the pulse,
the glow, the endless
shivering dance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Snow ghosts whirl and twist,
swallowing fences whole~
the last pine groans,
bowing to the wind's hunger.
Darkness gnaws the moon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frost gnaws the window~
a spider's ghost swaying there,
woven from moonlight.
The pond exhales its last breath~
blue silence cracks like thin ice.
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