It began as tone—
no origin,
no end—
a chord mistaken for a world made whole.
A held vibration gathered into shape;
harmonics thickened into edges felt,
and silence filled with structures made of sound.
A pattern looping through a field of noise,
hoping repetition made it true.
Desire tuned the body into pitch,
insisted on a key, a fixed resolve,
refusing dissonance its right to pass.
But slowly, the will releases intervals;
resolutions drift without a home, and rhythm slips its measure into air.
Overtones collapse to quieter threads;
no struck glass shivering into light,
no instrument remains to house the sound.
No echo left to gather into form
only the unheard,
unstruck,
unheld
a silence
prior to all music,
where nothing ever
needed
to be shaped.
I was trying
very hard
not to say it
I was biting
my lip
and my tongue
But when you
insisted
I no longer resisted
And words
I had muzzled
did come ...
“Your presence
beyond
what is boring
“The space you
take up
but a ruse
“If given
a choice
I’d be far from your voice
“Reclaiming
this time
— I now lose”
(Dreamsleep: July, 2026)
The Colosseum sits~
a fractured crown,
its arches a circlet of light
where jeweled sun gathers,
I walk its perimeter,
my fingers grazing limestone
warm as living skin.
Dust rises~
a faint ghost of applause, of fear,
of spectacle braided with longing.
History here is not distant;
it presses close,
grainy and intimate.
The broken tiers curve
like a half-remembered sentence,
one the empire began,
but time insisted on finishing.
Grass grows where violence once bloomed;
the sky claims the open roof
as if to remind the ruin
that even power must answer to light.
I feel a strange tenderness:
noting how even magnificence erodes,
how power becomes dust,
how what remains is not violence
but vulnerability~
the open sky pouring through
what once was sealed.
The Colosseum reminds me
that time builds and erases in the same breath,
and that beauty endures most fiercely
in the places where the world
has already learned how to break.
My wife Marrianne insisted
We’d go to the lighthouse.
We navigated the deadly rocks
As the lighthouse flashed the danger around
Emitting intense beams of light every fifteen seconds.
The full moon shone bright and golden
Its rays flickered o'er the calm sea,
Silvery waves danced to and from the shore
Towards the beaming lighthouse,
Where dolphins danced in mirth yet all was calm.
From afar we heard
The melodious soft music from a cruise liner.
Everywhere we felt great serenity
That we fell asleep, floating peacefully on the calm waves.
We could have had trouble from some volcanic rock,
But from the lighthouse,
A Glastron boat sped towards our craft
And sailors towed us back to safety.
We thanked them profusely and offered a tot of rum.
Placed 4
Jimmy decided to ask a girl out on a date
but girls are scary, frightening, sometimes mean
Dress up in your suit, his mother said.
Treat her like a lady, said his father.
He had saved up money for a date
was ready as long as neither ate more than ten dollars’ worth of food
His grandmother insisted he come to her house first for pictures
Jimmy felt strange; he knew his smile was goofy
uncomfortable sharing this moment with so many grinning people
walking up to her door, he realized there were millions of steps
and millions of things that could go wrong
“Sorry, they moved, honey”.
This was an old lady
who else would call you honey?
He walked away feeling relieved.
The day seemed quiet, not a sound.
I stepped outside to watch a goat pass by,
the focus of his vision toward the ground.
I sensed that he was lonely, even shy;
for as he trod his head hung really low.
I asked him if he'd join me for some tea,
it seemed he had no other place to go.
If chamomile was to his like 'twas free.
I insisted he wash up and wear a blouse --
indignant he got up and left the house.
This Christmas faerie came in determined to decorate our tree
It is our job, said my children Tommy, Tickle and Tippy Tee.
Stand back the aggressive faerie said, it is my job to do.
We tried to trick her outside, but she was a trickster too.
She flew around the room, decorating the mantle twice.
We were astounded, for a faerie she was not extremely nice.
Please let us do it, pleaded Tommy, Tickle and Tippy Tee.
However, she insisted on supervising the job of Christmas tree.
Polar bear insisted on putting the string of lights up this year
After downing three cases of wine and a keg of not-so-light-beer
the other animals stood by, not terribly close, but rather near
Should they try to take the lights from bear? It was totally unclear
[You, the speaker, sit on a chair.
Back straight. Hands still.
The room is too quiet.]
I became a fault line
people swore they felt tremble—
even when the ground
never moved.
[Lift your eyes. Don’t move anything else.]
A rumour sparked,
struck like flint
against my name.
My silence—
they shaped it into a monster,
a shadow they insisted
had teeth.
[Lean forward, elbows on knees.
Voice low.]
I walked into the courtroom
like stepping into
a lion’s throat,
and still walked out
whole.
But echoes cling.
Smoke remembers
what fire never touched.
[Stand slowly.
Let the chair creak]
So hear me now.
My silence
was a drawn blade,
not surrender.
[Step away from the chair.
One step only. Stand tall]
This—
right here—
is the line carved clean
through the dust.
And I do
not
move.
Growing up in the 50's and 60's, for me,
Was far less than 'a piece of cake';
Far less than 'a walk in the park'.
In the Southern region of my country,
There were two worlds; one was Black,
And the other was White. These two worlds coexistence but lived separately in most ways.
One Jim Crow custom was for Blacks to enter the homes of Whites through the back door.
When just a boy, I cut the lawn of a White elderly couple that insisted I enter through their front
Door. They were the nicest of any people I had
Ever known. Friendly, generous, and genuine.
More than 60 years have passed since the time
I knew them. I moved away after high school and never saw them again. But presently, I wish that I could tell them that I see them very clearly in my mind and feel their love deeply in my heart. They were the 'Whitworths'.
Adorable Dora went for a mani,
insisted of course on matching her dress.
How she felt magnificently dapper and regal
in her green velvet, walking high like noblesse.
Soon was it she remembered
that her closet was bare to the bone
and this was the only green
that she owned.
( Referring to Pablo Picasso's painting "Dora Maar with Green Fingernails" )
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2026, Front Page Pick 2026
The squirrel council gathered
beneath the old oak tree,
debating this year’s acorn tax
with wild indignity.
Red Tail argued loudly
for equal stash for all,
while Gray Tail filibustered
by climbing up the trunk and stalling.
Chiptooth formed a committee
to count the winter stores,
but half the nuts went missing
before they reached the floor.
White Tail, the Treasurer (a clever one)
insisted on a vote~
but bribery with hazelnuts
kept everyone barking a troat.
Yet somehow, through the chaos,
a compromise was made:
each squirrel keeps their acorns
but must share one… someday.
And so the forest functions,
in its nut-based parliament~
a jittery, tail-flicking congress
forever in dissent.
“Don’t leave me,” I begged
“I’ll turn over a new leaf.”
“You said that last time,” she said,
“But the story was just the same on the next page.”
“This time, I’ll start a new chapter, a new book,
One with a happy ending.”
“For whom?” she asked (grammatically)
“For both of us,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she insisted,
“You’ve lost the plot,”
“Are you saying our story’s over?”
“Yes,” she said, “you’ve been remaindered.”
When you died
We wept and cried
So much you left
Inside unsaid
Buried with
Unexpressed regrets
Nothing to do with
Your grand children
You adored us
Unconditionally
Our youth our zest
Our innocence
No judging ever
Pure candid love
We gathered
When it happened
And I was the one
Who insisted
I’d sleep in your bed
I felt so privileged
Never doubting
You had visited
And kissed my head
Watched over me
Nestled there tiny in
The palm of your hand
Keeping me warm
All night till morn
AP: 1st place 2021
Time after time
Month after month
No plus on the window
Finally, her womb filled
With a deformed human
Science insisted she abort
...she held space
On the streets
Lost in a mind of devils
No one could save
He walked out of prison
And through her front door
While she was down on her knees
....holding space
Waiting on relief
He opened his wallet
For count on fuel funds
His eyes saw another
Doing the same, but frantic
He gave her all he had
...while he, held space
The same argument
The same tone
Every word drawing up divorce
In a split second
The ground cracked open
As hope began to rise
...and together, they entered the held space
Written by Trudy Schrader on 03-10-2026
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