Fences yet to mend ,
Will they look the same again ?
Time stains, warps, and bends .
You didn't say goodbye when you walked out the door.
You didn't say you didn't love me anymore.
You didn't tell me what was going through your head.
I guess you thought it was better to leave some things unsaid.
You didn't say there was someone else on your mind.
You didn't say that I was just a waste of time.
You didn't tell me before you decided to go,
that there were some things you didn't want me to know.
So, I won't tell you that all I do is cry.
I won't tell you I miss you more as each day passes by.
I won't tell you that I wish I were the one instead,
to hold you close and whisper softly all those things left unsaid.
Always the world splinters—
the world breaks, fractures,
yet we lean into the cracks,
as curators, as keepers,
guardians of each other’s troubles
We gather the fragments,
hidden deals, relics, left-overs.
Embers still warm from the hearth.
Praying to self, I was near you once,
and it mattered, it burned,
it endured, it lasted, and mattered.
In the prance of happenstance
uncertain, trembling, raw, delicious,
we shuffle our scarred tokens,
knurled with abraded edges,
blurred and charred—
still radiant, still reflective, alive.
Laughter bends into mirrored halls.
Mirror on mirror aligned;
none showing the same viewpoint,
a shifting, stuttering constellation,
echoing a thousand selves
crying out together in reflection.
We are more than simply ourselves.
We are the harvest, the gathering.
We are the constellation.
A mosaic of cracks, left uncovered.
Where we let the light crawl in.
We are a threshold, an opening.
Where the light breaks in—
through the doorway
cherished as broken,
not worth fixing, nor mended.
Never broken enough,
Never done enough.
The door is broken.
Let the light come in!
When Alfred left me
It was not my fault, I had no shoes, and the police stopped
asking why I had no shoes
since it was none of their business
I naturally told them to off.
I was handcuffed and put in a police car,
which was more cooling than the asphalt
It was October in Albufeira, which can be warm
I thought this was a perfect movement, a father defends his son
But Alfred, who refuses to be my father, had gone home
I was left to explain this ridiculous case,
luckily the Portuguese
The police force felt sorry for me and let me go.
The next day, I bought a pair of sneakers in a Chinese shop
Alfred was wearing my costly upper leather
We left home behind,
hearts full of hope,
dreams draped on backs,
dust dancing on shoes,
the city ahead —
calling us forward.
Tall towers took time,
but so did costs.
Bread was a bill,
air wasn’t free
Even sleep stung —
priced in pressure of thoughts.
Coins clattered too soon,
pockets pressed dry.
We chased light,
found cold steel.
Time ate dreams,
tangled and true.
We counted months,
but gained grief.
Rain mocked us,
so did noise.
Home hung farther,
each city night.
Plans pooled into prayers,
hope huddled, thin.
We worked wide,
waged just peanuts —
enough to stay stuck
in survival’s spin.
Still, we hold
that first fire's flicker.
Not lost but paused,
not failed just finding.
We left home to build home.
The left’s declared war on the right
The right’s declared war on the left
When they finish with each other
In the center aught will be left
A gentleman I know
who’s held in high esteem
left this world two days ago
smiling softly in a dream
His tombstone bore the words below:
‘Ended life as he began
Never uttered an unkind word
about his fellow man’
With two left feet
he's clod-hoppery
tho' her little white porkies
are quite whoppery
as he thinks aloud
she's merely frippery
meanwhile she knows
he's really foppery
but slinking around
slippery-sloppery
in sandals she found
flippery-floppery
she came a-croppery
a total eye-poppery
yet flummoxed
gob-stoppery
he refrained
from quippery-flippery
remained on toppery
and maintained
ever chippery
card left unsigned
bouquet left at the door
~ cautious admirer
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on September 3, 2025 to contest 1409 SENRYU sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Cherish all of that which you have now,
For at the ends of all shared roads
Memories become tears below your brow,
Each event impelled by Earth's lunar nodes.
Cherish all of which is secretly promised,
For at the end of all of this journey of life,
You'll realize how you were always blessed
Even in darkest days of turmoil and strife.
Cherish all of what you once had,
For in the very end you'll see it all again,
Flashing through moments you were glad,
Realizing your light outweighed your pain.
Cherish all of what you desire now,
For there is only so much of the journey left,
Indulge, inspire yourself no matter how,
Enjoy the pleasures you were once bereft.
The world today is amazing
Simply because the Right is right
While the Left is just out
In Left field
Preaching to the ever dwindling crowd.
Who does the Right support?
Everyone who supports the Rule of Law.
Who does the Left support? Criminals.
And why? Who the hell knows,
But it probably has something
To do with equality.
Not equality under Rule of Law
But quality of result, regardless of means.
(8/25/25)
How many pages
Did you flip through
Of mine?
That I was written
With the embodiment
Of everything you deify?
Trying to picture me
Gliding
Through your mind
A kaleidoscope
Of innocence
In a dress
Where I share poems
Written about you
At 2am
And I am
Weaved together in your arms
Like the blanket your mom made me
Kissing my cheek
Until
I laugh
And our last kiss
For the night
Leaves the taste of you behind
Months old
Cherry chapstick
That lives in your favorite pair of jeans
My written word
Depicted me
perfectly
The soft
Smile on your face
Said it all
But the contradiction
From
Your tongue
The sweet
Sensitive love letters
You gave me
Was harder
For me
To swallow
Than the adrenaline
You could not control
When you felt my touch
I am inured
Whole heartedly
To the men
Patching up
Voids in their lives
With being lascivious
Their books
Always
Know how to catch your eye
Yet
They are always
Missing the last few pages
But I keep
Rereading them
As if the ending will change
He can't wait to move out
since he's grown up- but the problem is
that he has no car and has no job,
he's wise enough to understand
that he cannot live as a freeloader
be forever dependent on his parents
he's a grown man not a little boy
problem is he has no car and has no job,
he must obtain these things himself
the question remains: "how?"
his days are restless and his nights are sleepless
itchy with impatience, where the balm to soothe?
He can't wait to move out and live a life of his own
problem is that he has no car and has no job,
opportunity rarely comes his way
eventually his decision is to sneak out the door
with his backpack filled with essential items.
He left the nest in the early morning hours...
The Left and Right today
Are like East and West,
Different worlds that never shall meet,
Or if they do meet
Won’t hear or understand much
Of the other anyway.
Each is in a bubble,
Comfortable and secure.
The difference is,
And it’s a difference that makes all the difference,
One bubble is based in LaLa Land
While the other is at least grounded in truth,
As dirty and ugly as that sometimes can be,
Yet a truth that can at least call a spade a spade,
And not have to nervously glance over its shoulder
To see if someone thinks that’s somehow racist.
Shovels matter after all
In fact where would our civilization be
Without them?
And yet in our world today
Only half of us are needed,
And it’s always, never
The other half.
(8/16/25)
So little Room — I occupied —
When Breath — withdrew from Me —
The House — enlarged — to wilderness —
And left — Infinity —
The Chair — appeared too vast — for One —
The Bed — a vacant Sea —
The Mirror — kept a hollow Face —
Where once — I used to be —
The Garden — could not find my step —
The Sparrow — ceased — to call —
The Window — bore a foreign Sun —
And Shadows — claimed the Wall —
So small a Claim — upon the Earth —
I scarcely seemed — to own —
Yet Absence — proves — how large a Space —
Is missing — when I'm gone —
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