Being interested in weird things.
And such.
Having this brain.
Sitting oddly as if on a tilted shelf.
Holding things that seem fragile.
Like pasta in my hands.
Being interested in tables.
People stare and gasp.
As I measure the legs of this table.
It doesn’t…
Do anything!
But I promise, tables hop around sometimes.
Being interested in spoons, measuring cups, and scales.
I know they can’t understand.
They are just manufactured household items with no faces.
Staring up at the clock.
Who has hands but aren’t as nice as mine.
Fingertips.
Sitting oddly on a tilted shelf.
So everything spills and tumbles.
Being interested in weird things.
Like the rumbling sounds.
Of mysterious forests and angry parents.
Its ob-scene yet not ob-scure.' Quite clear
The people must exerscise de'jure.' there
Were buisness officers sent armed to the
Teeth..Entailed unto your deadly grief.'
Just before the court action, Dezi was looking for truth and action.' Dingo dan though planned to thwart being beside it TWOT leader he'd have had to decide it would be great if an offence could be pinned on Freeman, the case would never
Be tried..Now goons are expendable.' And
If one perhaps were killed, he could say good riddance 'to that free-man' and old
danny boy could ridel.! That would only leave that car crash.? Yet he was good by
Thunder..The slipperiest snake that ever had slithered around
This land (Down under)
Beauty is in the mastery
of the life you have created for yourself
the interests and passions you've delved into
culminating in the unique individual you've become
you are the tapestry of your life's work
AP: 2nd place 2025
I hardly know her,
yet I dream.
Her name is Luna,
she is one of those minor Goddess's
that are often seen
on a clear starry night in rural Ohio.
My friend Morty says
I am not worthy of my lovely wife,
but he openly declares his love
for my spouse.
Meanwhile, the demigoddess known as Luna,
has written a bio of my life so far,
In her last chapter
she changed my name to: 'Morty'.
When I told Morty, he just winked,
and asked me how my lovely wife is doing?
He and Luna are a couple now.
I can't help wondering about them,
and what they get up to
on clear and starry nights in rural Ohio.
I used to paint for twelve hours
and it was not enough
if I could have stayed awake longer
I would have painted for twenty-four hours
not walls or porches, canvases
I love drawing cartoons and painting them
Now I am in my studio for less than an hour
when I get antsy and find something else to do
have my interests changed?
Was fourteen hundred canvases enough?
Do I need a new hobby?
I sit down and write some poetry.
It’s a start.
Imagine No poetry
No photography
No music
do we know our own worth ?
a mean streak of yellow light emits
and dimmer eyeballs entail
with a soupçon of an onion reminiscence
Rainbow owl, you are amazing even though
You are completely photo-shopped I know
An artist has made you adorable to me
I like your looks, gorgeous is what you be.
It makes me want to use photo shop myself.
I have never done it, because I need an elf
Who understand the ins and outs of technology.
So they can teach graphic arts to challenged me.
A woman
Is no longer a prisoner
In a family
Like the olden days
Now
With her own pursuits
Own interests
Own wellbeings
And
No more intensive pressures
From the mother-in-law
Or anyone else's dictatorship
A new person is born
To the society
To a new era
And now
The death of a prisoner
Has ended the miserable stories
Of women
In the olden days
When melancholy drowns my interests,
all seem lost; when black bile's ooze then molests,
I travel through the valley of this death,
lacking life, hope—even desire for breath!
So, myself from blackness I amputate,
spurn whether to self-murder (and brave this fate?);
and lay aside despair and misery,
to fall in love once more with Poetry.
For two loves I have, God and the Muses:
one gives, the other neither refuses.
Before long, the Parnassus heals me in time;
and I grow strong before the end of this rhyme!
For mightier than despair is the Lord,
and the poet whose pen conquers the sword.
The curfew city rustles
People begin their hustles
Transport and markets bustle, noisily
The curfew has served its purpose,obviously
We get it more clearly now
From ourselves we knew not, to protect us, how
Enter the consummate politician
He protects business interests, not the Physician
He spews numbers daily bigger
Wields authority, we figure
Advises that we borrow heavily, to save us
We get broker, as we fall under the debt bus
The obsessive narcissistic lover of hers
climbed the hill of challenged.
Beating his head against a brick wall
for his pure love was damaged.
Whilst meeting they seemed to get along,
with common interests per usual.
Neither proudly advertised;
for this was unconventional.
Upon leaving he stirs and slurs,
left alone she questions again.
Uttering muttering "women",
naming blaming "men".
Pick up their phones to call now enraged,
only to find each other engaged.
Be careful not to lose the letter
attached to the top.
I finished mending the pants
she said, I hope you like them
them, I didn't know that Blue denim
Vest and pants where so heavy, they'll look
nice with those snakeskin shoes you
got for Christmas.
I hope she'll go with you,
I mean if you ask her to the dance
I hope she except, the Lady's at the
church spoke of a Man from somewhere
in Peru, coming to speak at the church, if she'll go
dancing with you maybe she'll come to hear him
speak.
I think the subject is on some new findings in a Jungle
research, they dug-up an ancient city and found the ruins
of Pragenti Solti" the gift giver of the Incan Indians.
the translated the scroll of the ancients, and the ladies
in the Dram Augsillany are sponsoring the ordeal.
If she say's yes then maybe just maybe you can use the
barn to have a party.
What Interests Me
I know there are men more tender than you
With eyes more protective than yours,
And more other things,
And . . . . . . .
But I’m not interested in the number of hydrogen bonds in molecules of water.
All I know is that without water, I’ll die of thirst
And it’s the same
Without you.
Translated by William Hutchins
When we pray to God in
purity,
We speak our mind to Him
with alacrity,
when we study His Word
deeply
He speaks His mind to us
clearly
When we praise Him in His
beauty,
we spring into His
presence... in reality,
When we Thank Him
thoughfully,
we spur Him to doing more
constantly.
When we worship Him
willingly,
we spray Him awesome
words outrighly.
When we swin not in sin,
we spare ourselves some
troubles within.
when we sail more in
stains,
we spite him, so He
plagues us with pains.
When we endeavour to
evangelize,
in the fathers Heart beat,
we specialize
When we doubt his power
to heal,
we speculate what is a
settled deal.
when we trust in him with
passion,
we speed up His
intervention.
When we reject His
instruction,
we spurn His salvation.
When we walk in his ways,
we spruce up ourselves for
eternal grace.
I want a new interest
to heal,
My heart's weariness,
Someone to live for
and work for;
The one to wait for
and long for.
This my unfulfilled
longing,
Makes my want of
strength,
my listlessness
brings my languidness.
I need to encounter
this healing interest,
to cure my festering,
wandering mind;
Setting its thinking
at rest,
By your loving kindness
O my God.
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