I paint a whimsy in my mind,
A quiet place and pretty,
Where I can simply dream
Child-like without the nitty-gritty
Of the city's less then kind imagination.
In reverie, the gurus say, the mind
Will try visualization, the machinations
Of the Universe, or so it may seem,
But in truth it's just an aberration
Of Reality's unending hallucination!
I would make a museum of my mind
Fill these musty halls with all my people
Every girl who has walked my corridors
To write her piece and paste it on the walls.
Every plaque together, a mosaic
Of all personas, memories, and thoughts
Together an image, reflected back
Informative of me, an auto-school.
Blowing out the dust of unused ballrooms
Broom cupboards and and the back stairs, each its own
Room for machinations, revelations,
Fed by all those who reside within me
My lonely people, aimless wanderers
Floating through the corridors room by room
Their homes are these clustered, open cloisters.
Endless is my palace of passages.
I am dissected in a thousand cuts
Each slice a living, pulsating breather
Warm and soft against my cobblestone floors
Balance of life and rock, they people me.
Voices low and laughter cheerful, I hear
My population all internally
All beings that are me, graduated
Notches on a scale, all playing their part,
Like cogs and wheels they move in tandem drifts
Here in this exhibit they gave me, of
Balustrades adorned and turrets revived
I transformed: a museum of my mind.
Obtuse abuse..rude platitudes shout..
About alternative attitudes..generations..
Scream at different altitudes & latitudes..
Venerate mandarins sins..
Generate pernicious vicissitudes
Vicious avaricious machinations..
Celebrate nations chagrin…
Pander to propaganda spin..
AI garlanded reputations..
Cohorts in suits cavort in cahoots..
Kiss or diss..the abyss
Hiss of mis-information bliss..
Arrests..capitalist corporate conquests...detests protest..
Well got egregious prior & previous..
SO
Whatever your hue or world view..
We know what's wrong..doesn't belong
Deliriously daring to dream of derring do..
The meme..prime time you probably knew..
The Force..of course..
Is also seriously strong in you..
she whispers to the bluebird
early every afternoon
whispers in its ear and
it listens as if it understands
she dreams of peace
and they talk for hours
probably devising machinations
to make this world a better place
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
A single dream is worth
a thousand realities.
J.R R. Tolkien
When the world
closes in and presses all ill
to squeeze what space
you have into a tiny ball -
there are always
places where you can go,
be it a quiet wood
or beside a pebbly stream
or any other refuge
your soul can dream.
Such places are beyond
the machinations
of the State, safe provinces
of the creative mind,
chaos and tariff free -
the real estate
of the Sublime.
his name's been on every child's lips
in whirls of fantasy, whimsy, slips and trips
synonymous with awe and wonder
we all grew up with the machinations
of Disney's wild and vivid imagination
a man with the grandest of vision
beautifully executed with precision
AP: 3rd place 2025
sleep god
Somnus
wave your wings like wands
take me
to the magic great beyond
make for my head an earthen pillow
i'll snooze
in the shade of a willow
and when nighttime's silver stars
twinkle
i'll channel my inner Rip Van Winkle
in crystalline canyons
i will take
a trip
in dreamland's mystic mosaic
all surrounded by feathery fluff
i could doze forever in that stuff
replace my machinations
and schemes
with a cornucopia
of fruity dreams
of an angel's warm and loving charms
as I slumber
soundly in her arms
blarrrrrng!
an angry alarm clock
blast
wakes me
tells me
heaven
doesn't last
So now it's official:
there is a trade war
between the U.S. and Canada.
Do we really know what for?
The POTUS claims it's about fentanyl
coming over the border,
but that dangerous chemical ain't exactly plentiful
coming out of my country, a land of law and order.
It's just a flimsy excuse;
a way to heap abuse and utter untruths
about a country that will not bow down
to the whims of a pathetic clown.
Sadly, in this situation
between traditionally friendly nations
there will only be tit-for-tat retaliation,
and the economic devastation
will in no way bring validation
to the asinine machinations
of the current U.S. administration.
The Pumpkinfuhrer only wants to sow devastation.
He is truly an abomination
and is now being confronted without hesitation.
His actions have certainly set a serious tone.
"America First" is about to become "America Alone".
Alas! You dark, grotesque, vile servant of Lucifer, the antithesis of the morning star.
Once again, you have sought me out and endeavored to siphon my light at the end of my tunnel.
In the past, you may have thwarted my desires, cast me into purgatory,
and whispered sophistry in the crevices of my mind.
But NOW your machinations are no threat to me. What once was a callow mind has turned into growth over time.
I have learned to see where there is no light, how to climb where there is no ladder.
So do your best, you nocturnal fiend. Your reign is over; you no longer have influence over me.
Now I know, good times and bad times are like tides that ebb and flow.
So traverse the realms to shroud my days in night.
I will say to thee, “Hello, my old friend. Do your worst, because God has bestowed upon me my own personal light, and I walk by it habitually every day and night.”
Trapped in a bowl to live
On display to be picked apart
Every move watched and discussed
Judged by their own reflection in the mirror
Disconnect from the mind hive
Ignoring and avoiding a good start
Their word farts making me disgusted
The way of their thinking is sheer horror
Trapped in this bowl their vice
Control and manipulation impart
The are trapped in what they constructed
In time their machinations will become their terror
By Cathrin Stuart
At the cusp
Of a wave, a change, a fall
Into total darkness
Here we stand
Or rather slide
Headfirst into destruction
And as we fall
Into chaos and dissolution
We will at last be saved
And in that moment
What we took for granted
Will be lost
Within the total chaos
Law and order will be established
And with it the end of freedom
This is the new world order
That awaits when their machinations
Come to fruit
You, me, us
Reduced to so many parts
Without regard for who we really are
And in the change
As the light of dawn unfolds
Will we be revealed as spirt or flesh
And in the severing
Will we sink or fly
In terror or relief
This is the cusp
We find ourselves on
As the powers that be extend
And as they grow
And we still have a choice
What will it be
(10/25/24)
God’s breath withdrawn
feeble form fell
strangely heart was calm
then the current was restored
rekindling life in dust
ignorance thus dispelled
wayward ego aligned
with the pulse of love sublime
resting machinations of mind
reclaiming inner light
hollowed out form reverberates
with pulsations of the cosmic hum
everywhere all at once resound echoes
sound of one hand clapping of the bliss drum
glistening forehead and toroidal heart oversee
playful machinations of divine magnetism
as a receptor we delight in the play
igniting fully mind-body prism
The art of doing nothing requires release,
from the machinations of our lower mind,
for which attachment to body-mind must cease,
that thus leaving all cravings of form behind,
we flow effortlessly like the morning breeze,
soul presence with pulsations of love aligned,
which simply requires a shift from head to heart,
feeling therein spark of bliss ignition start.
machinations of life
exert a stranglehold
as the noose tightens
we choose to vaporise
whence fate as may be
is rendered innocuous
thus in, within but not of
earth life play underway
with our ego immanent
presence transcendent
~
we have the cake
and eat it too
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