May your life hold memories as treasures compiled.
I hope each day favors your smile with cause to show.
Remember, though grown, you remain my darling child.
Light will reconcile any darkness for you, dear child.
At times, troubles will rumble until firmly compiled.
Solutions as seeds will grow until they fully show.
Life is not a looped 'happy ending' show.
Be brave, strengthen faith and embrace joy, child.
A good life depends on beliefs compiled.
When beliefs are faith compiled, joy will show, sweet child.
/Boom Bap Reverie
Crates cracked open in dusk-lit basements/
Needles tracing dust on grooves of gold, Soul samples looped—forgotten statements resurrected from wax, stories retold/
Basslines thump like city heartbeats, Hi-hats flicker, snare drums snap, old school wisdom in concrete streets, Cyphers ignite in a boom bap trap/
Chopped horns echo in subway tunnels, Scratch of vinyl, a DJ’s prayer, Freestyle poets, words like funnels pouring truth in the midnight air/
Apollo Brown dreams in sepia tones, Soul-worn records, crate diggers’ pride, Underground kingdom, built on bones of legends who never died/
So, spin that hour of rare instrumental. Let nostalgia ride the groove in every sample/ Hip Hop's past is still on fire/, and hip hop’s spirit finds its truth/
in the attic,
a box of old postcards
still smells faintly of cedar.
I read the handwriting~
looped, patient,
a kind of tenderness
that doesn’t announce itself.
Some artifacts
don’t need to be rare
to matter.
owl loved turtlenecks especially in red
Give me a cowl, I’ll wear it until I am dead
There was a fierce wind, it had a big howl
A huge beast flew past, another kind of fowl
Was that a raven or crow? Owl asked a pal
I do not know, she said I’m a near-sighted gal
They noted the black bird had a looped jowl
Dripping from it was a giant I, their favorite vowel.
Passing moons
of shadows glazed
plaster,
looped in fresco’s
fringe s
y
n
t
h
e
t
i
c
s
n
a
k
e
s
inner cries
lingered,
fingers trace
imprints,
alibies,
I let go
the weight of worries,
go where music takes my
songs…
...and v e r s e d melodies
I heard a voice,
a static laugh, playing on a cassette tape
A muffled cry, looped into a comedy show.
Buzzing, ringing, echoing...
It keeps repeating—
Piercing through to bone,
Gripping my chest as if
My fingers might crush it—
Opening my mouth to
Spit out my heart.
A vast cage called home,
A bleak stage called family...
"Can’t this relationship go beyond rights and duties?"
No matter how desperate,
Or how much I beg—
There is no return,
Neither safe escape
Nor a crossroads...
Acceptance would never come.
Strutting in bars
Chains looped on thick rawhide belt
Gently rugged the sway
Rock - soul jigs of punk nineties.
Rhum on the side
Grip of Alpha rules the air
Branded as cool rebel -
Casting a masculine spell.
Nette Onclaud Contest:
Texture Of Minimalism
November 14 , 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
salt-stained envelope
softened by Atlantic mist—
your words unfold warmth
across my kitchen table.
distance dissolves
in each looped g, each smudged comma
tracing laughter
voiced across ocean waves.
I'm not feeling at all myself today—
I see a sea of selfies.
adrift in a mirror maze,
floating as reflections that are lost
in a hall of posed intentions.
Each face is a practiced smile.
a seance of polished poses,
looped like circling carousel horses,
whispering secrets they pretend are mine.
I forge new versions of myself daily,
crafted to echo what strangers crave,
me to be, or to become, not what I truly am,
hiding in the hollow eye sockets of the masks.
As for me, I feel more like I'm becoming.
A be, yet to be; a question still unraveling.
I'm a stem cell of identity.
Not yet fixed, not yet become,
with a fluid potential to be everything,
or just a little bit of nothing,
all in the same breath.
My shadow lingers behind me.
Faithful, yet mute, and blind—
unable to speak or swim,
or survive the spotlight’s glare.
It hides my darker inner self from me.
That none of my selfie reflections,
in the mirrors ever want to see.
lights crack, breezes of salt drown the eyes
Toss heads of dye, howls collide, the waves still
Pacing the wharf, glances leer throughout, giants tear through the skies
Decrepit soul, thirst of white, it is a race to uphill
To a place of barren dreams, no ink to spare
Quakes crash, again, again, I'm awake, no... , you won't reach it
A man, drifting across time, ill words blurred with satire
Forget it, once more, once more, it has a form, no..., you can't face it
Turmoil, a fading beating, repressed a voice that will vanish
Never did you look up, there you were, as always, folding cranes
An old hat, lips staggering, that face is no more, a life that will vanquish
Detached farewells, fractured, as you diverge leaving your bygones
Dazed, as you keep stumbling, cries drowned in clamor, a mind looped in trance
You... mute as sights follow, a mind frenzied in silence
looking
worse for wear
at the mercy
of winter's harsh elements.
a stray dog,
sad of eyes,
clothed in all black
to match her mood.
emaciated and weather-beaten;
a labrador retriever
with her tail
tucked behind her hind legs
softly whimpering
shivering.
oh, you poor thing...
how far is your home?
scared
untrusting
of strangers;
perennially running
from rescue.
with a looped leash,
I approach, again....
she takes a step back
I come closer...closer....closer...
she turns
and sprints away.
I won't give up,
I'll do my best...
to help bring you in...
from the cold.
Quicksand,
happy to sad.
Mad morass of the mind.
Looped labyrinth of wavy lines,
no end.
Velvet red roses stand
cheek to cheek
with daisy faces, ringed
in petal fringes,
sweetly scented
by creamy bubbles
of double jonquil popcorn blooms
beside a starburst
yellow chrysanthemum,
and long leaves
squeezed between.
Below, their stem-straws blur
in the ribbed glass jar,
looped with a satin orange bow
for your 97 years
we must farewell soon.
The loved ones are visiting,
bringing flowers, hugs, reminiscences
for you, last of your generation -
two brothers, two sisters.
I don't want to say, 'Goodbye'.
Let's have a few more days,
or weeks, or months,
just for keeping company,
like the flower bunch.
Peering back through misted glass.
You.
An intimately known stranger next to me.
Echo waves lap in and out of my mind...
Reality? Looped events pulsating.
Can't trust the cine film past.
Click. Thud. Tapdancing on my heart.
Staccato feelings.
Drop by drop I return to myself.
Phoenix.
Songs and chords they sing to us
Almost every day,
Some are very musical
Some just sing their way.
Though today when I was tuning in
I heard it word for word
The message from the greatest ave
Our clever lyrebird…
“I’ve talked with all the animals
Of present circumstance
The mourning of our people
From gifting such a chance
To share in all the beauty
You preserved and kept
Thrown back at you with scornful spew
And total disrespect.
We’ve witnessed all the suffering
That humans have endured,
How every time you rose above
Goodness you secured.
Harmony had come to be
Right from the dreamtime
Lines are strong and never wrong
Where Peace is yours and mine.
So, You will overcome this
That conflict and that strife,
Soon there’ll be tranquility
And a happy life
Once there was for yet to be
The cycle carries on
Here upon our sacred land
Under our great Sun”
Then he looped around me
And vanished in the grass
Leaving me awakened
With glimpses of the past...
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