This blackout was edited from one of my own poems.
Dismal ¦¦¦ my mood tonight
¦¦¦ a tempest ¦¦¦¦ howls outside
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ the truth I ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ confide,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ I’m filled with fright.
Rain ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ down my windowpanes
¦¦¦¦ fingers ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ reaching for me,
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ demons who have no empathy.
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ their ¦¦¦¦ desire is to drive me insane!
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ thumps ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ on the roof.
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ the reaper has found my home
Or ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ a wee evil gnome ?
¦¦¦ what lurks ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ I have no proof.
¦¦¦ confrontation ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ I should dare
Have I ¦¦¦ courage ¦¦¦¦¦¦ to open the door?
¦¦¦ can’t stand ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ anymore
¦¦¦ I’ll face what holds me in its snare
(Blackout of ) my poem, 'What Holds Me in Its Snare'
Yes!
What appears
appears without a knower~
No separate one
to know anything
but amazingly
it may appear that way~
Appearances are
expressions of nothing
with no holds barred~~
Who holds the secret code to my heart?
Not stars, though they whisper in silver script;
not time, though it turns every lock I keep;
not seraphs, their wings aflame with living light.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the One who ‘knit me together,’
the One who numbers my steps and gathers every sigh
as though they were psalms.
The One who searches all things,
It is who He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the One who reads my hidden places
as easily as morning light reads dew.
None of my shadowed chambers are closed to Him,
no locked door beyond His mercy’s reach.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the quiet sequence only His love imparts.
No earthly throne outshines his sovereign grace;
It is He who knows the fears that pull me apart.
It is He who holds me in his forgiving embrace.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
In my aging heart lies a single code
The one who holds the pass had too grown old
When death angel came, my petals fell from sweet rose
Now heart still aches for love once more to hold
Beyond the gate which now hangs thick ivy
Which weaves magic with its runners quite green
Tells my secrets of grief, loss and spicy
Tidbits that only lovers share between
My code is carved in silence, thought, plus aches
In each season that's passed a turning; heals
Me in love's part, even though heart breaks
Our wedding vows my heart and yours did seal
The garden planted now needs water so
Enter my garden where love gives warm glow
I flew across the sea
to view the greatest art
though beauty I did see
it did not hold my heart.
I climbed the highest peak
beheld the grandest part
though glory I did seek
it did not hold my heart.
I saw lovely gardens
their colors stood apart
and though I could admire
it did not hold my heart.
I spied a humble church
sat under altar’s arch
the cross, yes! my soul search
for Christ, He holds my heart.
I thought loud for a while,
How your wishes never say goodbye.
I linger on thoughts; distance wishes fly...
Brought feelings I can't deny.
Many a thanks,
Deposited into my precious banks:
Invisible to earth; glaring to heavenly ranks,
Beyond reasonable pranks!
Pleasing supper,
Eaten in a rush without a jumper,
To satisfy quiet hunger: night stumper,
Compassion takes upper.
Just like Arsenal,
Topping the table was seasonal,
For that long run so devotional,
Playing styles really sensational.
Your wishes plug,
Smiles and laughter; memories hug...
Enough to linger on till next year unplug,
For another drug.
Your wishes blindfold me,
How awesome is its glee!
That rotate globe's 360 degree,
Without paying a fee.
Your wishes decree;
My heart becomes free.
Grow unique wishes: a tree.
Each of you; an honoree.
[Verse 1]
While I don’t know what tomorrow brings
I know the One who writes the story
He’s always writing and my heart sings
Because He’s writing with a pen from glory
[Chorus]
A pen that sings
In a rhythm of dreams
On angel’s wings
He is writing my story
[Verse 2]
While I can’t say how this day will go
I know One who knows for sure
Just what is meant by love, it’s glow
It’s rising on this spirit, secure
[Chorus]
A pen that sings
In a rhythm of dreams
On angel’s wings
He is writing my story
[Verse 3]
While I can’t always say what will come
I know One who always sees tomorrow
Whatever happens, His love overcomes
He leaves my heart sure, feeling all aglow
[Chorus]
A pen that sings
In a rhythm of dreams
On angel’s wings
He is writing my story
[Bridge]
I might not know, but He knows
Whatever comes, He always brings
Sweetest love, and it truly shows
He’s still writing with that pen that sings
[Outro]
A pen that sings
On angel’s wings
Just sing, sing, sing
Praise to the King
Kids’ chatter no more knows this house,
A ghost-like life grows in this house.
It hangs on still in deep hunger
Of sounds. To stillness bows this house.
Clean tiles waiting to be muddied,
Soiled floor no more shows in this house.
Wishful hopes long turned to despair,
Heard are wails of woes in this house.
Where’s he, long hailed by this name plate?
Seeds of doubt now sows in this house.
Doors duly locked for a while now,
Void stares through windows in this house.
Hum of life no more in this house,
What sombre chill goes in this house!
_____________________________
Ghazal | 05.12.2025 | children, house, memories, old age, pathos
Note: Human body is like a house on hire and gets old before one realizes. Yet, well before that it lives through thousand hopes, aspirations, and expectations, many of them dying as mere hopes--unrealized. Old age is the last phase of life, but far from its end. Body gets old, hopes nor mind. In this ghazal, old age is looked at as an old house that has seen many of these hopes slipping away. Memories only what remain.
Through Smoke and Laughter, Thanksgiving Holds
By Alan J Winters
The oven groans, the timer fails,
the turkey smolders, smoke prevails.
Children cough, the dog runs wild,
chaos reigns, yet spirits smile.
The table wobbles, a leg gives way,
gravy spills in a tidal spray.
Uncle trips on the welcome mat,
still insists, “It’s perfect imagine that!”
Through burned pies and forgotten rolls,
we stitch together fractured wholes.
Candles flicker, power dies,
yet stories rise where silence lies.
Grandma hums an old refrain,
her voice a lantern through the rain.
We pass the plates, we share the bread,
tradition lives in what is said.
For every mishap, every fall,
the feast is not the food at all.
It’s hands that reach, it’s hearts that mend,
it’s gathering close when troubles bend.
So let the turkey char and crack,
we’ll laugh, we’ll love, we’ll circle back.
Through smoke and laughter, tears and song,
Thanksgiving keeps us holds us strong.
A banner that's lifts in the heavenly sky,
It's colours bold, its meaning shy.
The symbol of a beast of gold and black,
The beast significance shows knack.
The red flag shows the blood and boiling flame,
As it the flag flies, it would remain the same.
Banner holds wisdom, power and history,
History behind it shows glory and story.
It whispers the culture bold and proud,
The flag which had been vowed.
No roar remains, yet still it calls,
Through silent halls and memory's walls.
It rises from lands carved by ancient hands,
Where legends walked and shaped the sands.
In every thread, the echoes stay—
Of warriors lost, of children’s play,
Of all who dreamed in brighter clay.
Its colours blaze with a fierce, calm fire,
Born from struggle, grief, and tireless desire.
Within its emblem, stories gleam—
Of mothers’ prayers and rivers’ stream,
Of hopes protected in a sacred dream.
Let it ascend where the brave ones stood,
A mark of courage etched in wood and blood.
More than a banner—it is a soul,
A gathered heartbeat made whole;
A guiding light no night can dull.
There's one special photo I've treasured
most of all across my many years.
It represents the epitome of love and freedom.
It's a memento of my role model,
someone who valued friendship,
who loved to travel and keep busy.
Memories of a grand-mother who
taught her little grand-daughter
precious skills carried through life.
It's a photo of timelessness,
of memories that refuse to dim.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Pushing me away
But telling me to stay
Not knowing what to say
You cross my mind every day
When I look in the mirror
Feels like a blank stare
Day by day
That feeling never fades away
Having a whole family
That wants no part
Breaks my heart
Feels like it’s my fault
But I knew it was you from the start
Pulling at my heart
With every conversation you start
I still feel like I have to protect myself
From the person who made me fall apart
Not knowing how to love you
But trying to hold a bond with you
Feels like I have to put up a fight
Just to get through to you
Crying out and leaving never worked
Looking down the road, waving goodbye
In my heart I knew it wasn’t right
Year after year
We get close, then it disappears
Missing a piece of me I’ll never get to meet
Yet when you see me, it’s still hard to greet
Feels like a stranger holds my heart
The part I wish I could restart.
When truth has no rhythm,
No one dares challenge axiom,
Or be subjected to criticism—
Not for others, cum narcissism.
When death has no pain,
No need to fear its reign,
Or beat around its chain,
For none will ever remain.
When fear has no trouble,
No harm in taking risk for double.
Wait patiently for it to bubble,
And if not, retake from the rubble.
When lie has no trick,
No need to worry, mic,
Over truth's daring click,
To uncover its coming kick.
When care has no effect,
No need to carefully detect
How doubt sets in defect—
Pretence leads to misdirect.
When joy has no impact,
No need for saddened act
To show sympathy can extract
What enthusiasm duly enact.
When laughter has no sense,
No need for reasoning defense;
Brain logically built to condense
Complex and abstract pretense.
When reality has no importance,
No need for illusionary stance
To bid change for another chance,
Despite life's threatened romance.
STILLNESS HOLDS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
nestled inside
one raindrop—
stillness holds
fur soft, eyes closed
earth’s heartbeat slows
world suspended
calm transcends
all storms
The calendar showed January 1899,
there were only a few hours of real daylight
He set out in his poor man's boat, early dawn
Snow and ice did not melt until mid-May
The cold bit his face and hands,
he had to try to obtain some food on the table
All they had was flatbread,
oats and water porridge
A sudden storm forced him to seek shelter
He had to be master of his own destiny
Strong east wind
prevented him from going ashore
The best possibility was to anchor
in a cove sheltered from the wind
Grandfather's killick saved him
from drowning that day
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