If you asked him, he would be right
he who challenges and always wins the fight
he can do no wrong in his own eyes
thinks they can’t see through his disguise
Men like him think they’re a gift
they claim no part in any rift
but then wonder why people start to drift
He has his victims, for whatever reason
sits them down and plots his treason
He finds a weakness in every strength
puts his strongest players on the bench
a problem he’s caused is not a problem he’ll own
he’ll strike you down with his criticising tone
Men like him, they won’t own up
to their mistakes, honesty’s dried up
If you need his help, you’ll be stuck
on your knees, out of luck
He thinks himself special, valuable and sought
but that’s not why he occupies your thoughts
Men like him, one day they’ll learn
respect is something you must earn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hip dips
left, uneven~
gravity pulls hard now.
each step swaying pendulum’s grief.
hold me.
Millions go without food
While feel-good stories blare
Vibrations shatter ideas
That prevent humans from care
Look around next door
Poverty parades the streets
Money minds mansions
While war drums methodically beat
The contrast is a golden calf
Erected at the city square
Rich and poor, sinner and saint
Playing at musical chair
At the front of the class
Suffering is our teacher
Trying to escape her rod
Humanity dives deeper
The soil aids our descent
The weeds gather 'round
We aim for TRUTH
While they purposefully crown
....intelligence
Written by Trudy Schrader on 11-10-2025
i used to think
loving you too much
was romantic.
now i see—
it was me
giving away parts of myself
like clearance items,
hoping you’d find value
in something
i had already discounted.
you thought my devotion
was desperation.
you watched me fold
into smaller versions of myself
just to fit your world.
and when i broke,
you called me dramatic.
but i wasn’t asking for too much.
i was just asking you
to notice
that i gave everything
and asked
for almost nothing.
now,
i look at who i was with you—
and i forgive her.
she didn’t know
love isn’t supposed to
humiliate.
Feet walking with direction and decision
Mouth speaking sweet words
Not riddled with derision
Heart beating for pure love
With no malice or spite
Eyes seeking and finding acceptance
With no attachment of wrong or right
Ears listening for a moment of bonding
Not tools for inspection
Head held high with pride, positivity, and deep reflection
Forbidden
virtue is nothing claimed
nothing but acceptance
weary roads of unstable
to reach out to my mother
inherited sadness, taken-on imbalance
derangement of two, nobody understood.
the so-called wise woman said "ignore,
ignore the signals"
how could i be so ruthless
and oversee the madness
tying us through this long hall of the past
no one takes a step
neither could walk away
to break the curse and be brave
inherited cowardice, taken-on petulance.
Love is a bit of comedy, so be rough with love.
He arranges her one way and then another,
in itchy dissatisfaction. She surrenders to the role
like a silent bystander, a plaything in the hands
of impatience - what does he want?
“Like this,” he says in a schoolteacher’s voice.
The imbalance of power, the almost impersonal
manipulations, the momentum toward surrender,
and then the shocking, primal desire - to meld -
like a gunshot in a canyon long thought empty.
So you have an imbalance
And you still live in the real
Real world things affect you differently
And you take meds to keep you
Well…chilled and balance.
So you suffer from depression at times
And for different reasons
You get sad
You recently lost a parent
And you feel guilty and just plain bad.
You use what the world called coping skills
Just to help you well…deal.
The only way to deal with finding the mental balance
Is being grounded in the Lord God.
A true relationship with Christ
Will keep us from gambling with dice
When it to trying out different meds
Just to find a balance
Because He is our healer and our peace.
A sonnet for Gender Inequality.Hope you will enjoy it.
Imbalance
O boy, O boy whom to confront,
They reckon we are unequal, it's sheer pretension.
We are par above the so-called male ideology,
We are the same with only different biology.
O boy, O boy whom to share our hue,
They differ us as pink, they remain blue.
We have an extremely high potential in various chores,
Don't disregard us society, We are more competent to roar.
O boy, O boy whom to mumble our gripe,
Our signs itself depicts we stand upright.
The male symbol goes haywire in the shade,
But we are firm with an " O "and standing down with pride.
O boy, O boy whom to call our own in this world,
Where the patriarchal regimen takes the swirl.
We are multi-talented you see,
We can work at the office and still manage the hierarchy.
O boy, O boy whom to scream and groan,
Who will end this grievance which is undoubtedly wrong?
We are like sweet streams made by our Almighty,
We will combat, make our path, and accomplish our liberty.
I remember the days
before technology
before computers
before cell phones
before smart tvs
In particular
I remember one summer day
when I heard on the radio
that the microwave oven
had been invented !
I really thought this was it ~
they had finally invented
every possible thing
but then…
they put a man on the moon
and it was only the beginning !
How our world has since
spun out of our grasp
illusions of grandeur
never nearly big enough
exploration beyond our universe
trying to connect with aliens
when we can't get along
within our human race
Priorities askew ~
Who cares about
this endless technology
What if our geniuses focused on ~
feeding the starving nations
sending all children to school
caring for mistreated animals
fixing the environment that’s
damaged beyond repair ~
They could try solving greed
and cruelty
and selfishness
for starters
The countertop microwave oven affordable for residential use was introduced in the late 1970s.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on September 18, 2020 for contest A HISTORIC EVENT sponsored by WILLIAM KEKAULA - RANKED 3RD
For Christ sake, shut up!
And let me be
Why must you always come up
At times like this?
What have I done to you
To deserve this torture
As a prize from you?
This wasn’t my plan for a better future
The rest I seek to have
You won’t let find
The peace I desire to know
You won’t let me behold
You are tearing my life into shreds
Making my world uncomfortable
And killing faster than I’d ever have imagined
The sleepless nights
Seem to you not enough
The heart aches and fights
Seem to you a thing of fun
You’ve made me cry
Tears of wasted years
And now on my skin they dry
Tears of bitterness
And now hatred for my mistakes
Cuz I know not what lies a stake
I curse the day you sprang up in me
At the mere touch of your master ‘love’.
All these while in me you silently lived
As quiet and beautifully as a dove.
Never did you bother me this way
You painted my world with colors of the rainbow
And now here we are today
All dwelling in love’s shadow
What is left of my skeleton
That you’ve come to take.
No way! You can’t have it
How can you desire your own cake?
Disappear at once!
For a second chance you do not deserve.
Imbalance
Was it worth it I say to you my Lord?
The agony and the despair in a group.
Right and wrong define a mega-loop.
Some are enthralled others are bored.
Some balanced to strike a right chord.
You give you take with one big whoop.
I see and I blend like a homemade soup.
I adjust and readjust daily with a sword.
Sometimes I just want to run away,
But where would I go, you’d follow.
I scream kick and shout just to stay.
But then you’ll get way too hollow.
So I am damned if I do and damned if I do not.
So I tip my hat to imbalance and cast you a lot.
© Copyright: Ann Rich 2008
My knees get weak-
As you whisper;
Sweet nothings in my ear.
I start to shiver
At the words delivered,
Our fate becoming clear.
You caress my skin,
Leaving trails of kisses;
Every place you touch.
My breath deepens-
As your mouth meets mine.
The pleasure is getting to be too much.
Our passion is apparent.
Our kisses become rhythm.
Our love becomes a song.
I could never really fathom,
How these feelings could be;
So wrong.
Now I sit and think,
Of how it had to end.
Our closeness is slowly dying.
If I said that I could forget about you-
this feeling of being safe;
I know that I would be lying.
Every time I see you,
I want to press your body to mine;
I want to hold you tight.
I love you-
Even though I know that;
You can't be- 'Mr. Right'.
So the struggle continues;
I'll always love you-
Until the end.
It kills me to know...
that you can't think of me;
as nothing but a friend.
Imbalance itself is a disease
Balance remains with neutral
not with imbalance
Imbalance neither with itself
nor with balance or with neutral
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