I have no beef with your God
(unless it's The Golden Calf)
who they may say
works in mysterious ways
but I take umbrage at those who claim
to speak on his or her behalf
and here's a laugh
'No graven image' was handed down
yet they're here there and everywhere
all over town
A painted smile,
A hollow laugh that rings too true,
Bright, blinding eyes,
That weave a gorgeous lie for you.
A borrowed hug,
That feigns a warmth it cannot hold,
And sugar words,
To trap you in a web of gold.
Sweet, fleeting hours,
That hide the rage they try to drown,
A heavy truth,
That wears a lovely, lying crown.
A powerful message I’ve found in my in-box
It reads, “If you’re losing friends lately
~ try changing your socks"
my daughter has noticed this
like the most editorially vexed volume
and its observations
and there's a knock on the door,
and there's a man in the park playing the erhu on
a bench by the pond
the pond of dreams and small morsels of bread for the mallards
the waiting, the twisted heart,
the nausea and difficulty concentrating
i approach the man playing the erhu
he doesn't speak english
i speak mandarin to him
and as we part,
i laugh in the same way my father always does
distinct, undivided, wholehearted.
Love the way you make me laugh.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I am grateful for all the people I’ve met…
Who have helped me with these three principles
to keep in touch…
How you can never laugh too hard
never sing too loudly
and never love too much.
How cruel of you to laugh.
You must be a psychopath,
completely daft and nuts,
as I'm oozing bloody guts,
a jelly donut, cut in half.
Sometimes I'm as silly as can be
AP: 3rd place 2026
The sun tickled and made us giggle.
AP: 3rd place 2026
The coffee spills- black rivers on the floor- and I, barefoot, just laugh. The morning yawns, its breath
still thick with yesterday's small wars. But here's the joke: the sun keeps climbing on, unfazed by burnt
toast, unpaid bills, my socks that vanished in the wash. The cat just stares, unimpressed by my chaos.
Tick-tick-tock, the clock mocks my rush. Yet - somehow - the air is sweet like stolen sugar.
Gratitude is sly.
I know it’s a shame but isn’t it clear
That I have no possibility
To change a thing in what’s going on here
Maybe others have that ability
So either they work it out fine
Or they’ve just given it up
Whatever happens I keep my line
Preferring to drink from my cup
The private life is by far the best
Invention of the Englishman
Stuck to your own, leave all the rest
To choose what is chosen for them
To hell with that new and old rubbish
My privacy sends me stuff
That I dare sometimes to publish
You’re entitled to cry or laugh..
"It takes a real heart to write forevermore." By Poet
Here I sit with pen in hand,
staring at a blank notepad.
I need many letters,
to make my words come alive.
I thought I was a writer,
but as I sit here I wonder.
Poems come from the love of writing,
writing about the past or about the present.
Poems can be true or false,
some will make you cry and others will make you laugh.
True writers write from their heart,
as the ink rushes through their veins.
Now the words flow faster then I can write,
don't think, just write.
The writer and reader are both in love,
in love with letters, words, sentences and reading.
Now I am writing away,
forevermore.
I didn't know you could tell jokes !
AP: 3rd place 2026
I never laughed so hard.
A belly laugh so long my sides hurt.
Ended up not remembering why.
Wordku: 5-7-5
AP: 3rd place 2026
I take the Mercy and Grace God bestowed in me,
and now I pass it out, to others you see.
With His forgiveness and his saving Grace,
I was redeemed from my darkened place.
With a love greater than yours or mine,
through the refiners fire, a darkened heart refined.
Oh the love He has, just for you and me,
with that love, through us, he sets His children free.
We are to be the visible, side of God, here as we live,
those who need love, forgiveness, and understanding, to them we are to give.
For as He is, so are we in this world, you see,
the visible side of God, we are suppose to be.
Freely giving out, what God has done inside,
with love, understanding, as in the truth we abide.
Like sheep, we are led to the slaughter each day,
as we walk in Gods love, overcoming the evil way.
It’s hard to love and to forgive, with every breath we take,
it’s even harder, when we live a life thats fake.
To live, to love, to laugh, we all desire these things,
but to behold the beauty there of, you must overcome its stings.
We are all creatures of habit, this we know is true,
and from the hearts of all children, their father does show through.
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