Forevermore Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
FOREVERMORE
Time waits for no one
I’ve always wondered why that was said
To me and many like myself
It meant we must make haste as people
Because we do not have time on our side
But what if….. We did
A constant that last for generations
It stretches beyond where our eyes can’t see
A seasonal friend to the world
A reminder to our memories and meetings
A taste of forevermore
A push and pull with our state of being
A love letter to your future self
A terror to the lazy
A reward to the fervent and patient
A true friend to both life and death
A mediator for choices
A regulator for our emotions
A constant that remains with God
As eternity springs beyond our reach
We call it time
Yet it is more than clocks and numbers
It carries our first cries
And our final goodbyes
A wild and free concept
Unafraid of either
Moving still
Forevermore
You've been gone so long.
My pen races to translate every heartbeat.
Longing to be together again.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
A paper, white and soft,
And full of antique creases —
Wordless — floats freely on my table
With the unseen wings of identity.
Minty and fresh with the age of cavern webs,
It’s a palimpsest bearing departing lines of hearsay.
Streaks of cunning kohl and coquettish
Lines of banded reddish lipstick
Join it as it smirks at the futility of
Veiled saga.
Unfaded, though yellowed
Paper wrote on
Love's clear mention.
As fragrant, though musty
The box found in
Love's sweet meaning.
If you wish to escape a while from reality,
And the humdrum of day to day life.
To mute for a time the noises of humanity
I will write you a love letter..
I suffocated , air grasped from my lungs
My heart sang for you
My mind protested and my melody seemed to be fading
But I waited for you
Finally like it had just be proselytized
My mind sang the same tune as my heart
And all was a smooth, sound river flow
A river flow like my tears when I had convinced myself that it was different
That your heart no longer beats the same way for me
Like when it felt like you did an introspection
And realized you picked the wrong gemstone
That I was no longer the apple of your eye
But a forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden
Still I waited for you
For the mere thought of you
Or the mention of your name
Forced my adrenal gland to secrete adrenaline
And my heartbeat increased threatening to rip my Sino atrial node
Betrayed by my hypothalamus failing to cooperate with my cerebrum
I waited for you, I did
And I know for sure that when you go into hiding again
I’ll wait for you
Candle lights the room,
Her heart beats a soft rhythm,
Longing fills the air,
She flits through a poem book
To find sweet words for her love.
It bled its way through dreams,
With conviction too real to ignore.
It bled as marks on the page,
In the places left to explore.
It breathed with me, and stuck -
On the lips as words departed.
It was the messenger and the parcel,
It was the passenger and the plane.
It was the cutting winter winds,
Who defend the starry sky.
It was the rain and all its thunder,
And the moonrise and the eye.
I fell in love with a land
where the desert learns to dream,
where golden dunes bow gently
to a sea that remembers the past.
Qatar welcomes not with noise,
but with warmth—
in the smile of a souq merchant,
in the quiet grace of a dhow at dusk,
in coffee poured slowly,
as stories are shared with the heart.
Here, history walks beside the future.
Ancient forts stand proud,
while glass towers catch the sun,
reflecting ambition, culture, and vision.
The museums speak in whispers of heritage,
the streets glow with modern wonder,
and every journey feels like an invitation
to pause, to marvel, to belong.
In Qatar, travel becomes affection,
and every visit turns into devotion—
a love shaped by tradition,
guided by hospitality,
and carried home as a memory
that forever calls you back.
The love song with no lyrics
that is the reality of my life.
The empty tin with no noise
that is my cry.
The holes I patch
Open up new wounds.
The pressure of pain bursts out loud
like a broken water pipe.
All my memories are stored away
in a dark cloud
that rains
every time I recall
the fantasy of our love.
You wanted laughter,
so I rehearsed a smile.
I tied my soul to my words for you.
I learned to hold the storm,
swallowing the thunder
so your sky stayed clear.
The beautiful storm,
the sweet salt,
the calm sea,
the perfect love
oh, what a fantasy.
I patched the flame
with borrowed words and lullabies,
played our record
until it ran out of words.
I became fluent in silence
just to keep your peace,
but it screamed inside me
louder than love ever did.
I held the door open for you for so long,
I forgot how to close it on myself.
Oh, the irony of love.
Every smile I wore for you
left bruises on my soul.
Now I drown in the floods
I never let out.
And I wonder…
was my love letter
mailed to the wrong address?
Dear Eos,
I
wish I still felt passion in my heart toward
the generous soul that you are.
You always saw beauty in the world
and painted strokes of life
with a brush of sweetness and delight.
I
am sorry for the suffering life's put you through.
The heart is a fickle thing. It simply was not meant to be.
We've walked together but now our paths divert,
we take with us the lessons that we learned.
----Tithonus.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I tore a letter from inside my ribs
not a heart, just the script of your name
written in red ruin and birth fluid.
You were never mine.
You were my plague.
And still I prayed at your shadow.
Every sentence you whispered
became a worm in my lung,
a hymn stuck in the throat of a dying god.
And yet, when the mirror begged me
to choose life or you
I held your rot and kissed it clean.
I wrote
then paused,
ball pen hovering—
the words too bare.
They sat
on yellow sheets,
unsealed and unsent
in little brown envelopes.
A line
meant for truth,
one for letting go,
another for quiet peace.
I wrote
“I miss you,”
maybe even “I love you,”
then crossed half the page.
Sometimes
I read through
the unsaid in my heart,
and almost sent a word.
Your name—
blue, unfading
crawl the old sheets,
but my voice never came.
What
could have healed
or stayed broken—
I’ll never know to say.
Only that
silence felt safer,
quieter, and maybe better
than something too true.
Please Listen to me when I say,
“You’ve got to hide your love away.”
I know I have to hide mine too.
It’s hard to hide a love so true!
Our parents wouldn’t understand
young love. They’re blind to things this grand.
The bell for sixth-grade recess rings
at ten. Let’s meet beside the swings.
When I see red roses
I remind of bloody sunsets
That is frozen in green field
I see those petals like tongues
Burning like flames under pressure
Its passion cannot explained in words
And its smell like fresh wind from the East
I envy with star and love it the most
Each beauty is sealed like love letter
From a boyhood and girlhood of neighbors
Where love sticker is the seal on the letter
And a pair of chocolate adorn with a rose
I see this memory once my youth of prime
The experience of love letter and love itself.
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