Neither toy nor a plaything
time on a whim squandered at leisure
frittered for sake of burlesque
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
you're laying back and toking
is that a funny cigarette you're smoking?
~ looking suspiciously calm and mellow
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
Hear the tale of the green fields where I roam,
Leisure World, the place that I call home.
If you take strolls (a healthy habit),
at dawn or dusk, you'll see a rabbit.
(If you were faster, you could grab it)
You'll see four-legged, curly-haired cuties
who lead their pets while they do their duties,
and grey-brown squirrels on their haunches
meticulously chewing their lunches.
If your garden was ruined by a snail,
I ask, are you reading my mail?
See the colorful apples of my eyes -
hummingbirds and monarch butterflies.
But what I'd like to see most (pardon my sharin'),
is a coyote or a great white heron.
a blank page
when I awaken
and walk barefoot
across the carpet
and when I embrace
the song of nothingness
it wants more
a cool breeze through the window breathes new life
onto the page in front of me
and the sun peaks through the window
as I sit at my laptop
and slide my feet under the desk
I love my muse and learn to let go
the moment when I follow the path
where inspiration leads
(folding mirror poem)
Sunlight leaks
through the curtain
after I’ve thrown off the covers.
Downstairs the television flickers
as a roommate sleeps
on the couch.
He was talking politics
last night.
I went upstairs
and read a poem.
This morning
I walk into the kitchen
and turn off a dripping faucet.
The furnace hums
to fight off a chill.
The calendar says spring
as if my life has just begun.
I go out for a leisurely drive
where the countryside
speaks to me.
I come back home
and make a quick brunch.
Words dancing in my head
cry out for me
to put them on a page
as the cat sits on my lap.
The roommate rolls to his side
saying, April’s the cruelest month
while I say the cruelest thing
is writer’s block.
A jet passing over a crown
of trees at the end of the street
streaks the sky.
The roommate talks about a movie
he watched in the middle of the night
and its philosophy.
Did you like it, I say
as a bird outside the window sings.
The beauty of the rain when those crystal drops fall on us, is what this poem is all about.
The droplets fall on me now,
As pure as a plain crystal- Even I do not know how,
They fall on my body,
I wish I was called worthy of it-By somebody.
I feel glad and blessed,
When those crystals on my body-Gets pressed,
I feel relived and chaste,
Forgetting my gender, religion and caste.
They fall on me one after the other,
And are waiting to fall on me,
When they clash across each other,
I could feel from this worldly stress- Fully Free!
Life hit me hard on the face
I became vulnerable
Even when I know many
It's like I know none
None is ready
To support or give a helping hand.
Everyone wants me to be loyal
Even when they know I am royal
Everyone wanna bend me
Even just for bread
They only come after me
Anytime I'm down and vulnerable.
Life keeps teaching
People kept on torturing
None wanna nurture
Even when we're same culture
They still act like vultures
Steady leisure
Without rendering any support.
The first winter’s rain
Brings in the chill in the air
The sun hides behind the overcast sky
Playing hide and seek with the grey clouds
A gust of wind whooshes through the trees
The cold weather is set to begin
I wrap myself in a blanket in bed
Reading a novel with a mug of coffee in hand
Untimely rain brings us such pleasure
A time to lie and contemplate in leisure
My body's not a stone, unyielding and cold
Nor is it wood, unfeeling, and old
It's flesh and blood, with needs that must be met
Rest and relaxation, to rejuvenate and reset
Don't be a slave to labor, toiling ceaselessly
For when you're gone, your efforts will be but a memory
Those you've worked for, will call you a fool, in death
For neglecting your own needs, and sacrificing your last breath
Find solace in leisure, and joy in life's delight
Savor the fruits of your labor, before the darkness of night
Take a sip of wine, let music move your soul
Dance and merry, let your spirit be made whole
Don't hoard treasures, you'll never live to enjoy
Be moderate, and decisive, let wisdom be your employ
Let go of hatred, and malice, for they'll bring you pain
And lead to heart attacks, and a life of regret and strain
Life's short, enjoy it, while you may
Do good, create impact, but don't overdo, come what may
Consider your health, and your maker, in all you do
For a life of balance, is a life that's true.
2nd place
“birds care not for whom they sing” – Silent One
The Sun cares not for whom it rises;
Wind cares not for whom it blows!
Stars care not for whom they shine;
Rivers care not for whom they flow!
Trees care not for whom they bear fruit;
Flowers care not for whom they bloom!
In giving alone, they find their pleasure;
Our wisdom lies in enjoying them at leisure!
While giving birth to their children,
Do mothers expect anything in return?
Do agreements and contracts hold good,
For performing our duties naturally well?
Doing things and expecting something
from others, lands you in big trouble!
Expectations, like mirages, are illusions;
The harder you try to reach them,
The longer they move away from you!!
To be free from the bondage of karma,
Act without desire for the fruits of action!
This is what every religion does tell us!!
Hate Lazy
Love Leisure
Leisure restores
Lazy destroys
Leisure is production's reward
Lazy rewards nothingness
050324PS
Love pleasure of life
Drink tea during afternoon
Melt my dreary sight.
When one is free from drudgery,
Liberated from tiresome toil,
In that little space of time,
Leisure sows its seed in the soil.
A minute to relax,
Preceded by an hour of travail,
A minute to ease up,
Followed by an hour of struggle
When the mind is free of stress,
Time seems too endless to measure,
When the hands are free of work,
Time seems too precious to treasure.
In the words of Aristotle, the master philosopher,
"The end of labour is to gain leisure,"
And I agree,
It really is the greatest form of pleasure.
We moved back into the residence yesterday - we were jubilant - and had a slumb-over last night, to celebrate our reunification. We woke up joyous, on the right side of the same bed (slumb-over), and we’ve been bouncing off the walls ever since.
We’re in the ‘settling in’ phase, restocking our Keurigs, getting our same-’ol furniture in the same-’ol places, picking up our books. In this liminal space, between sugarplums and sutures, our shrinking free-time will sag with increasing weight. Even last night’s normally fabulous martinis began to taste metallically laced with formaldehyde.
Once we’re settled in, our leisure will begin to have the tight, mangled fit of a borrowed jacket. “We’ve got to gear up.” Lisa said, just this morning and even as I type this, my eyes are flitting between my dog-eared copy of Gray's Anatomy and the mcat prep hub.
Classes start in 5 days. Free days burn bright, but disappear in a blink. Time is a precious coin.
.
.
*slumb-over = slumber party
Written: November 15, 2023
__________________________________________
Some seek leisure in the pristine wilderness
The solitary coast is the site of separateness
Each one is barred from harboring bitterness
The ocean thundering, roaring in its utterness
Nature fascinates me beyond my smallness
Never before impeded in the path of emptiness
From lackluster scarcity and austere emptiness
An itch for oneness in the cosmos of loneliness
We wait idly for the angel's plea for tenderness.
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