There’s a strange bird in the tree
warbling weird birdsong at me.
I’m listening lazily.
~ Thinking that there will be a long time
of contemplating death ~
The sun shines down on me
and I’m smiling uncontrollably.
What a wonderful day to be.
Jennifer Brea had encephalomyelitis
She was examined by the best and brightest
She was told that anxiety was the cause
These kinds of mistake should give us pause.
Heide Ferrer got tremors and vibrations
Told it was depression, imagine her frustrations.
She took her own life, long covid is now supposed
Another disease dismissed, not diagnosed.
Alison McCabe was in severe pain
She was told it was the flu, so why complain
But it was the side effect of iron infusion
It was the doctor, not her, who had the delusion
There are other cases, if you search you will find
There's a catch all basin of "all in your mind"
some patients even accused of seeking attention.
If docs don't know, maybe best course is abstention.
The process of elimination can be a dead end
If you assume its mental, patient may not mend.
But don't make the mind the dumping ground
For every mystery not yet found.
Clanging.
With weird smells.
My jaw.
Yawns.
Then settles like algae around my ears.
I’m tired.
Like old dishwater.
Gulp.
Turbulence.
But it’s just that the trash can got knocked over by a raccoon.
Plunk.
And inside I felt a “plunk” too.
A trash can is not a good place to take my lunch break.
But I finished reading my book.
With night vision goggles.
on the lazy river
sailing down on my fun raft
time is standing still
Magazine madness of fashion obtuse,
Scantly clad teen’s covert abuse,
Circumvent moral by calling her model,
Grey line law’s favourite excuse.
Tick it and tock it,
And snappily chat,
Or X book of faces,
To summon the rat.
Where all indignation is vehemently expressed, where righteousness of self is digitally pressed, a mirror without flaw from which to throw stones, a facade without face or flesh or bones.
Artificial intelligence,
Artificial incantation,
Artificial infection,
Artificial indignation,
Artificial incandescence,
Artificial imagination,
Artificially incarcerates;
The innocents of nations.
Forgiven by your convenience,
Your need to gadget consume,
So yes their abuse is all your fault;
The fault of all in this room.
Illegal but one click away,
Ai can undress us all,
Immoral but here to play,
Yay for all our lovely tech,
What more can I say…
by David Nickle Read©2026
"Listen closely," Rumple Stein
cackled, his yellow eyes
scanning the terrified faces
of the children huddled
around the campfire.
"A massive, hairy Bigfoot
stalks the foggy mountains,
sniffing the chilly night air for
a very specific scent."
"This towering beast
possesses a terrible, burning
fury against children who
refuse to do their homework."
"Because some kids don't do
their homework, the furious
monster swore to hunt down
every single lazy child."
"He tracks the scent of blank
pages and hidden schoolbooks
straight to your campground tents!"
"He wants to stomp slacker
kids to a pulp to punish them
for neglecting their daily education!"
He suddenly jumped to his
feet, throwing his hands high
as the wind howled through
the branches.
"And when he catches a lazy
student, "Rumple Stein roared,
"he crushes them with his giant
feet!"
The terrified children
immediately reached into
their backpacks, pulling out
their folders in absolute panic.
They frantically began
scribbling their spelling
words by the dim, flickering
light of the dying fire.
lovely lithe lightweight lilliputian Lily
loaded lazy lethargic lounging lizards
likely lightsome live-wires lingering
in lap of Louisianan lizard lane
dud
sloth like
lazy bones
couch potato
static and stagnant
lackadaisical
inactive
work-shy
slug
Patient planets on their wheels revolve
they answer not for the treachery of their tides
But we’re made guilty of our own disasters
and we’ll hang by our own lazy geometry.
Our very own hapless crookedness
is reason enough for our bankruptcy
Oh, we may pretend and invent kinder tales
but in quiet rooms, in privacy, let us confess
that we, ourselves, are the choking strychnine,
and the muscles controlling the bone-white hand
if we all become handsome skeletons
who lack marked grave stones
let’s call it karma.
.
.
A song for this
I Remember the Sun by XTC
Invisible Sun by The Police
He formulated a delicate scheme,
So that he could obtain vital funds
From gullible, if friendly virtual persons
And spend his life in idle, useless pastimes.
In his egregious vanity, he concocted stories.
Thus, he would meditate on pulling strings
Of his listeners' consciences.
Insane in his delirium, he would meditate
His famous tales read newspapers for inspiration,
Send messages to all he judged to be ripe
For a monetary gift to help assuage his need:
Alas, not many took the bait.
Occasionally, someone would send
A miserable donation. Until he found
His haven in an old kindly woman who felt pity
And send him a thousand-dollar gift.
Profound words of thanks ensued.
He was courteous hoping to get more,
Inventing a lack of funds to rent his home.
FICTION?
I can't really do anything bout it,
sigh,
my boring days I mean,
my dad has my location,
and it's like I'm on some leash,
with my adventures locked in Hartford,
I CANT DO JACK NOW BLAHHHHHHHHHH,
I might as well turn away from reality all over again,
but I have in person friends now so...,
I can't just do that now,
But I'll enjoy reconnecting to my old friends,
and old friends I called family.
but I do miss my old advders,
my trips in private
going to New Haven,
going to other parts of CT,
traveling on my accord,\
but its this pathetic idiotic parenting,
that makes me want nothing more than just to,
Maybe lock myself away again in a lonely school and home,
back to my "Lazy days",
and here I thought in high school I'd start being free,
free to be me.
-Kitsuko Dragonstar
Oh for the days the Sun did shine
To feel a warmth upon my face
It brings a smile to everyone
In Winter time our worlds a desolate place
The Clouds rush by and rain doth bring
Or even a Snowy glistening glow
A slippery surface under foot
With a severe coldness well in tow
But as Spring approaches so does the Sun
It’s a bit brighter and warmer now
A much more pleasanter place to be
It brings a much better feeling somehow
Our seasons bring special Joy
Whether it be Winter Spring Summer or Fall
Each brings it own unique story to tell
A wonderment to us all
The mind’s eye sees more wondrous joy
Each time of year will bring
In springtime it brings out the best
It’s a joy to hear Birds Sing
In Summer its a nice warm glow
Makes us all as happy can be
In Autumn the trees all shed their leaves
Sadly dying off until another time
And in Winter its cold and miserable
Though sometimes the Snow can look sublime
This world of ours is a wondrous place
God gave us to enjoy
I have loved it all my life
Be it as a man or little boy
I am a lazy bum thank God!
or else I would
have got caught up in
this society
It wears you down
turns you into a puppet
I would never have
become a Poet
having been tied
to the grindstone
Whatever caused me
to turn to Poetry
was a blessing in disguise
Life is a mystery
and you have to
go with the flow
Make whatever adjustments
are necessary believing
that you are headed
on the right path
She was graceful sitting there.
At home exquisite in her exotic decor.
Peacefully listening to bluesy favourites.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
No lazy eyed outlook
When this morn-stilled!
Points as what's on display: "there, look;
Old barrow, cart".
Can it be so excused
When this noon-stirred?
Points as what's just for show: "there, look;
Old cat; porched art".
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