Asleep or blinded? Or worse
With lights out, passed away?
As which Christ left you, undisturbed
Homeless in that doorway?
Tell it to the five year old
Whose home was blown away
And since the hurricane passed,
Has no home in which to stay.
Tell it to the grieving mother
With tears upon her face
Who now sets the table
With one less dinner place
Tell it to the jobless man
Whose family must be fed
For business needs of his former job
Doesn’t care if they’ll be dead.
Tell it to the elderly
Whose prescriptions won’t be filled
While drug companies only care
If their greed is being billed
Tell it to your neighbor
In the driveway as you pass
You parked your car forever
Due to outrageous price of gas
Avarice and Greed became
The new laws of our land
Corporations buy officials
To advance their corporate brand.
Her song rung out like a broken chord
Her voice now lingers, left, Ignored
Her willow weeps amidst the storm
Her arms grew tired, weak and sore
But her song rings on at last she's free
No longer weeps... The willow tree
The sky now breathes a stagnate breeze
Until she falls, upon on her knees
The sky now greets her silent pleads
Then drifts away, and returns her peace
Her song still sings... a broken chord
But at least she's no longer, left Ignored
they take me for granted, I feel ignored and small
Six live in this house, and no one thanks me at all
they use me every day, I am imperative to them
They slam my door and give me a headache; I’m Jim.
I keep their food cold, my freezer keeps them healthy too.
They have allowed me to get filthy, I am full of sticky goo.
When was the last time someone washed me? I really don’t know.
The little ones sometimes stand inside on my edge, hurting my toe.
I am tired of this treatment, would run away if I could to the moors.
I snicker a bit, thinking about how this would feel to these boors.
Twenty years I have been here, keeping their milk ready to drink.
I am not alone in these thoughts, ask the oven and the sink.
Nothing lonelier than being alone in a crowd
standing still in a bustling sea of aliens
they speak their dialects and look
right through me as if I wasn’t there
Feeling insignificant I don’t belong
and everybody knows it
like an imposter trying to fit in
but wearing the wrong camouflage
I try to merge with oncoming traffic
but they ignore me and won’t let me in
refusing to give me a chance
I am not worthy and they let me know it
Secretly part of me thrives in their ostracism
content that I have made my attempt
that like amber in layers underneath
there is more to be found in silence
Inspired by movie “Lost in Translation”
AP: 3rd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Ordinary days, just like before,
No one knows the feeling of being ignored.
It's always that one who makes the heart beat fast,
In every way, giving the heart a blast.
That someone is too far from reality,
The impossible hits differently.
Too good to be true to notice,
Even in the smallest way, there's no space.
It’s always you that gives a butterfly.
It’s you that brings a fast-forward to imply.
Gives the benefit of the doubt to try,
Risking something just to be with you and cry.
You’re my “what ifs” sometimes,
And also, you’re my “at least” every time.
It’s better to give a little shot,
Than to give the negative and make a plot.
Horse Color Cannot Be Ignored
Intentions, cryptic, in pockets.
Fiery darts lampooned in sockets.
The bow is a clue; not a sword.
Horse color cannot be ignored.
Wielding war’s arms, removing peace,
Men turn on each other, decrease.
Burning core, where anger is stored -
Horse color cannot be ignored.
Black as soot; rider holds grub scales
In hand; deprivation prevails.
Looking at the day prices soared;
Horse color cannot be ignored.
O the wretchedness of pale green.
Adds plague and wild animals, mean.
The ark, a save; won’t get on board.
Horse color cannot be ignored.
Abortion Skipped or Ignored
abortion intend
even though we would offend
life came to an end
Sometimes, we groan
That we're alone
"Till God condone.
In those fearful time's by memories clear,
James McLain, a soul once gripped by fear.
Within the labyrinth of my own mind,
The Mandela effect, a twist defined.
Through unfairly, I faced a daunting fate,
Unjustly convicted by the state.
Mental tempests, an internal weight.
Florida's prisons, a brutish place a primitive place,
My resilience endured despite the state.
Fifteen years entrenched in strife,
Raped by other's most now dead.
James endured the tumult of prison life.
But within his core, a spirit resilient,
A survivor's tale, uncowardly told.
In echoes of despair, a whisper grew,
Hope emerging, a steadfast view.
Through bars and chains, my spirit free,
James McLain, triumphant decree.
With each passing day, redemption's flight,
A phoenix rising, reclaiming the light.
The Mandela effect, rewritten by grace,
James' story echoes in time and space.
Where there is injustice I remain disgraced.
do
never
ignore me
i will be crushed
covert .. I .... exist
hope one finds me
wait unseen
shout deaf
choked
Why should I keep going?
Why should I work so hard for pain and suffering?
What is there to gain?
Wisdom? Completion?
That's not going to help, not any more
Not when there is no longer anyone to share it with
Not when I’m all alone in a world overflowing with mindless life
So tell me why I have to stay in a world that had nothing left to find
Nothing left to discover or share
No words heard when I try to help make this place better
Now tell me why I am needed in such an un-wanting place?
Because if you don't I will leave and never come back
Winnie was luxuriously enjoying her bath of bliss
When the cat and kits came in to snarl and hiss
Out! She said, but her familiars did not give her the time of day.
They confidently began to slip and slide and chase and play.
Nobody cared.
You could tell from the cracked and broken windows.
You could tell from the maggots and moths in the kitchen cabinets.
You could tell from the nails scattered across the dirt-caked floor, waiting patiently to be stepped on.
Nobody cared.
You could tell from the way their way shattered brown and green glass bottles littered the floor and the way the doors creaked every time they were opened.
You could tell from the way all the rooms smelled of rot and how poisonous ivy snaked its way up all the windows.
You could tell from the sounds of yelling that echoed through the house day and night.
Nobody cared.
You could tell from the tear-stained pillows on the ripped and tattered, sheetless mattress in that pale yellow, tiny room.
You could tell from the spider webs in every corner.
You could tell from the scent of alcohol on her breath and the slurred curses she yelled at the children sleeping in their beds.
Nobody cared!
You could tell because you were told.
It was right in front of you the whole time.
You saw, you heard, you smelled, and you touched.
You knew, yet still, you did nothing.
You cared just as much as they did;
Not at all.
On the way of the flat pedestrian roads
Ants are traveling uphill and down dales
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