Neck bones buckle
Bent to corners as kicked in knees
Establishing an angle —
Glazed, goggled gazing at the scene.
Solemn eyes fall down
To ground he couldn’t reach
To be caught for early welcome
Within his Saviour’s reach.
Announced like the crack of a circus whip
New arisen Lazarus
The pop and crunch of the watching crowd
Punctuates that Rapture.
We dare believe in afterlife
lest there’s no justice in this universe
~ revoking freepass for moral lawlessness
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
Grandly nature
So great world cosmos
Who naturalized it?
But tell my friend, you must have moved a lot.
Oh sure, I’ve been in a constant journey:
To a beggar for a few biscuits bought,
With a child thrilled as if with a trophy,
On pilgrimage, or in some wishing wells,
In temples, helping with a layman’s faith,
A rupee coin many a tall wall scales,
In constant motion, often out of breath,
And still, my life was truly well its worth
As measured by how useful really is,
High birth nor ever large acres of girth…
The note’s eyes were nigh moistened hearing this.
As I woke, thoughts took me to my childhood--
What pennies and pies could give-- thrill so good!
_____________________
Sonnet | 29.07.2025 | money, journey
Note: Pennies and pies: a rupee then had 64 old paisa, and each of which fetched three pies, and they all ran a long distance for me, every single pie was valued, which today even a rupee fails to fetch. Today’s paisa (all the hundred of them) is accounted for only by accountants on paper. Two-thousand rupee note no more in currency.
Last night I dreamt I was one-rupee coin
Who met a two-thousand rupee crisp note
In a rich man’s pocket, looking so keen
At the exalted worthy of my vote.
The note asked: you find anything funny?
No, but you must have moved many a miles,
Which, a penny like me cannot any,
The coin wondered. No, caught I was on isles
All along, detained as if in dark land--
In lockers, safe from prying eyes of law,
Until given was to a corrupt hand,
No, there’s nothing in me to inspire awe.
All life I’ve spent oh in utter darkness,
Relieved I feel at last this to confess.
_____________________
Sonnet | 28.07.2025 | money, journey
In spring we come out to see life,
out from our long cold winter's nap.
Bears are so loving not wildlife.
Love can be grand.
I am your big fun bear asap,
you are my fury playful wife,
I love to see you in gift-wrap.
Tonight we need some fun nightlife,
eating fish not from a flytrap,
using my big claws not a knife,
Love can be grand.
My Dad! My Dad with hands so grand
whether shapely straight as a clarinet
or conical as a saxaphone. He blows
through a woody-reed, his tongue
not lashing at us, but conditioned
to musically relay his love for us.
My Dad! My Dad with hands so grand.
They put together a Hammond organ.
His feet so cheerfully press the pedals,
his fingers twinkle across the keys.
Whatever instrument, he sings to us;
his voice good enough for us. Occasionally,
my Dad would get mad, lash out, but
it was not his habit. He is compassionate.
He’d keep quiet, and quietly entertain.
I wish I were a fancy artsy
living off my creative exploits.
I'd wish to mingle with its class,
commune with the type of people
who live and breathe for art.
I'd wake up every morning
percolating with bursts of ideas.
I'd master hues and nuances
splattering colours on wide canvases.
My brushstrokes would be magical
and my art inspiring to all.
There'd be a reason to my creations.
Like a calling to offer true compassion,
my art would be joyful and bring cheer
speak to both the heart and soul, mostly
reach the sad and lonely to offer hope.
AP: 2nd place 2025
We're merely quests on this planet
lest we forget ~
Our life is but a wink
in the wake of eternity
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
"It's not in the way that you use it"
with the color of that money
Made a "run" for it
"Something is tearing us apart"
A "Bad: influence took control
But I "walk(ed)" away
I am "hung up up on your love"
I "take a chance" but flew away like dove
"Holding on" for my own good
Do I " miss you" Love
"Holy Mother" let's pray
To conclude the" mask of confusion"
It has been a "Grand Illusion"
Grand Illusion from Eric Clapton's AUGUST ALBUM
i miss the way she looked at me
i miss the way she held my hand
i miss the softness of her cheek
i miss the games and girlish laughter
i miss the passion in her day
i miss the time she'd spend with me
i miss the years cruelly stripped away
i miss most the things she had to teach me
but since she's been gone i recognize
she's been the angel watching over me
AP: 3rd place 2025
You know when someone says I love you 'As' the sun? ~ it means that you're always loved—poetess "As" by Stevie Wonder
I Choose Love
I believe in a true Love so true and real
By embracing all and then Love always
If we change words into truth then
Into Love so that maybe
Our children and grand
Children and their
Grand children
Tell that I'll
be Lovin
You
+the knot does not untie from within but frays at the edges, a thread pulled loose by unseen hands+
—we do not walk in bodies—we drift in thought, for there is no world but the one the mind dreams—
[form is a trick of light, a fleeting shape of held-together stars]
And when the hands that bind us let go, we do not vanish—we expand.
+The gatekeeper crumbles into dust, and the tide rushes in+
Working night shift out on the retail floor,
stocking cans and boxes till her back’s broke.
Trying to live on minimum wage,
eating PB and J and drinking generic coke.
Cashiering all day at the fast-food joint,
collecting tips to try to make ends meet.
A big fake smile on her make up covered face,
blisters the size of quarters on her feet.
Watching TV without cable,
talking on a phone that still has a chord.
Growing a tire around her middle,
because pasta and potatoes is all she can afford.
Walk to work cause her car won’t start,
sure as Hell can’t buy both food and gas.
So when the man says he’ll make America Great,
she says that he can just kiss her ass.
on my desk
lays a plan grand
to escape from my town
and live in the valley
waking up to the sound of birds chirping
ending my day with a walk in the evening
at night, sipping tea by the fire
to falling asleep in the arms of my lover
i’ll watch, “trees shedding a part of them in fall”
i’ll watch, fog cover my ground”
i’ll watch, “rain pouring down”
i’ll watch, “green take over again”
and
i’ll watch my inner child heal
words from them won’t hurt anymore
looks from them won’t scare anymore
scars from them will stitch up this time
and they won’t be there anymore
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