Slow down enjoy the spread
take time find beauty where least expected
tune in ~ feel the harmony
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I’ll take
The bitter with the sweet
Thank you
(9/17/25)
Since early youth we’re brainwashed to
measure ourselves with a beauty stick
while the real standards need to be
how kind sweet thoughtful loving we are
I’m sixty-something and past my prime
I’m not supposed to look like a hot babe
I’ve had my day in the sun and made it count
now I’m that fading rose whose time has come
They say eyes are
a memoir, stories stolen from memory
that may or may not exist—but either way
iris plays storyteller.
At the bottom of my glass,
a pair of ocean eyes in brandy—
searches for an identity.
Nothing
but a blurred face with no features
—perhaps no stories ever lived to be stolen
though the shape of shadowy tears
are oddly clear—they consume the least amount of light
then drool them out, uneven,
like trembling breaths of an old firefly—
Brings my mind to this
long summer, air reeks of damp, molded plums
even in a marble kitchen: always rancid,
though pores exhale wispy musk and oak—
A scent fitting
for a firefly reaching for summer’s tail,
behind it death’s haggard palm.
His voice sibilant, mocking
its effort: as when summer ends
life ends shortly after.
Pupils follow the wavering ghost of firefly—
stars grayish azure, grasping anything gravity can pull
to keep a lone soul companied down the road:
My friend, come along,
there’s no need to fight tomorrow.
But physics means nothing to the candlelight midair.
Weary as it is—
summer will die chasing summer.
We are the sum, we are the whole,
A product twined by every soul.
We are the cast, we are the mold,
Defined by lies and truths we’ve told.
We are the plague, we are the cure,
Old minds corrupt and young hearts pure.
We are the wars, we are the peace,
We’re life’s first breath and death’s release.
We're every voice, we're every tongue
We are the rests in anthems sung.
The artist's brush, the sculptor's clay:
We are the canvas on display.
We’re rushing flood, we’re scorching drought,
Saint Peter’s faith, Saint Peter’s doubt.
We are the loaf, we are the crumb,
We are the whole, we are the sum.
must a man lose everything
to divine those truths inside -
must he bare his marrow else
deny what flesh should hide -
and will he open up his veins
thus through his blood, abide:
there is a thrumming stronger
than what beats in his breast?
must a kingdom wage a war
to stand and prove its might -
pave its streets in solid gold
and show its doctrine’s right -
oh must it build its parapets
in stone, to grandest heights
to know without one question
there’s a paradise that waits?
must a god be sacrosanct
through all that he applies
faultless in his form or law
while innocence thus cries
must he let his redress act
midst truth as passion dies
or is that err of humankind
how love so finds its breath?
for love is yet the only force
that triumphs over …
death.
Copyright © 2025 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
Go-go gadget, withdrawals no more,
a toast to addicts—there’s treasure on the floor.
X marks the spot, scribbled in Crayola,
connect all the dots—ecstasy, the night is over.
From Rock ’em Sock ’em robots to rocks in socks, a show-off,
hungry hungry Zippos, the money swells my lymph nodes, a lovely something sent ghosts—
right outside your windows,
trust no one, innuendo,
the night piggybacks the sickos.
I feel far from home, yet remotely close to sin,
my coffin’s so inviting—volunteer, I jump right in.
Fundamental frequency, but I only hit the high note,
incidental contingencies, lies in every word that she spoke.
Intentional indecency—my clip could use a reload,
a spectacle illegally, items bought without a barcode.
I yearn for entertainment, chose the red pill, hide from agents,
time’s complacent, me and drugs—true love, it’s our engagement.
And if I ever said “drugs make me a better me,”
I’m sorry that I lied—every night,
I cry myself to sleep.
IN AND OF DECEPTIVE RAINFALL
Rain fell down today,
The kids and I stayed inside;
Rainbowing our minds:-
We played, “Two Lies & A Truth”:
No matter how much rain falls,
We live—free, equal—lives:-
Perhaps, I shouldn't have learned to play the sax.
Perhaps, I shouldn't have started that food fight in the cafeteria back in junior high.
Perhaps, I shoulda said yes to Tanya back in 5 th grade.
Perhaps, I should've asked for a raise last year being my 3rd year in the company.
Perhaps, cauliflower would've been a better pick over broccoli tonight.
Perhaps, my kids are better off after the divorce.
Perhaps, this swelling in my right toe will go away on its own.
Perhaps, things aren't so bad after all.
Perhaps, my patience with myself is improving.
Perhaps, temperance is simply not in my nature.
Perhaps, God will forgive me in the end.
Perhaps, there is no God.
Perhaps, our concern should simply be the here and now.
Perhaps, there is not real past or future.
Perhaps, it's all in the journey.
As my old man said: "the journey till the gurney."
Perhaps, my dad never said that.
Perhaps, it's all just for a poem named
"Perhaps..."
May my words cut deeply into thy soul as a sharpened sword
Loosening the impediments of fear and hate causing your discord
May they like the shinning surgical blade make their incisions
Removing all delusion and indecision
Yet, also let them be as precise as a master surgeons work
Clearing even those hidden elements as they lie in lurk
Waiting to surprise and cause great demise
With full effect causing great pain and loud cries
But let my closing bring healing and peace
As the comforting sigh you now release
Let my words, now new seeds be
For you to use eternally
Let them nurture and encourage your life
Helping to endure and overcome strife
Knowing my love will always endure
And always be there for you, for sure
Words may be sharp, but be used to be kind
It’s just a matter of which ones you find
Every word I say traveling to thee
Is meant to bring love and comfort from me
Being a Lonely Asteroid
Billions of years in the universe of time, millions of solar systems
galaxies, living stars, dead stars, speeding starlights of dead worlds
My solitude is this life, scud through in infinity, in the space, a cold life
I am just a pebble, like my brothers in the ocean. This is our life
No one understands us. Suffering my asteroid heart. I can’t land
I can’t find a stable place for my billions of years old life. Oh God!
I can’t find a heart, a lifemate, a love, a woman, I can’t create a family
Because I have to move always. My end is the scud, the speed. Hmm
No stop. Never. Just go, go, go… No time to die. But I need. Long this
Hmm. My nature, my life is my end. If I land, then I will explode
Nothing will remain and stay of my life
Just my invisible grave in the crater
Hmm
This is
The Poor
Asterid
Life
I will continue my life
In the ocean
We are formed in His likeness – three in one,
Body, mind, spirit, we are created anew.
As in our hearts we think, so our course is run -
The soul reflects what inward thoughts pursue.
When Christ we claim, our spirit wakes and sees
Heaven’s truths which once lay dormant and dim.
Belief ignites like fire upon the breeze,
And all things bloom through faith we hold in Him.
He spoke: “All things are possible - believe!”
So, we declare, decree His boundless good.
In trust, the chains of doubt begin to leave,
And miracles arise where once none stood.
With God, the vast impossible shall cease -
In Him, the tide of hope and grace increase.
as life happens we react
then sense consciousness contract
which is good because we learn
to overcome ego’s burn
though life seems like a circus
we are here for a purpose
and when love’s flame is steady
to meet God we are ready
Should I have married Jillian?
Could I have slept with Gemma?
I’ve got about a million
of this kind of dilemma.
They crop up in a thrice, of course,
but hang around for ever
(or do they crop up in a force?
Oh, why can’t I be clever?)
I envy those with certitude,
those free of hesitation.
I ‘d love to be the kind of dude
who knows no trepidation.
If doubts exist and qualms are rife,
you, luckiest of creatures,
have found experience in life
to be the best of teachers.
So, if he says he has no fear,
no ambiguity lingers:
he never tried to snuff – it’s clear –
a candle with his fingers.
They, the flock of cockatoo
Living together, form a society
And crackling all time
Discussing things might
I cognize anything of that
What I do understand for sure
They, the highness, are proud
Of living in the trees, a tribe life
Or flying in the sky, cloud alike
They care me not for sure
Especially as to my thoughts
They,snobby,come to me
Not for what I said
But for whatever they can get
Specific Types of Life Poems
Read wonderful life poetry on the following sub-topics:
adventure, carpe diem, courage, depression, education, family, funny, future, happy, heartbreak, introspection, journey, love, paradise, rhyme,
and more.
Definition | What is Life in Poetry?
Poems Related to Life
activity, being, breath, dash, energy, enthusiasm, entity, essence, existence, flesh and blood, growth, heart, human being, journey, life span, lifeblood, lifetime, liveliness, living, oomph, soul, sparkle, trials and tribulations, vigor, vitality, way of life, zest, zing,