An hour poured into my fragile mind, each minute carrying meaning,
Seconds stuffed, the death of the past pulsing silently in their ticking,
The future hides beneath an aged present, slowly fading away,
An absent figure from the future asks me if I will be or not be.
Thus, I found within myself, hurried to face the moments that ceaselessly flow,
Tiny traces of infinity in my current occupations, endlessly repeating.
Attached to life, in my square dream, without profit or clear aim,
The secret, tenacious struggle with windmills that are my own burden.
I seek the antidote, the anti-EVERYTHING, to my poetry, the tears of burning candles,
Passions long corrupted, unfinished sculptures, from stones still uncarved.
When I feel my soul weary from the youthful sprint losing its momentum,
I shake all the windmills of the biosphere, while I am still alive and present.
Through life's intense stress, an illiterate of success, I pass through sonorous time,
The seconds of the past, fractures from a future losing its outline.
In the flow of thoughts, an esoteric and melancholic dance begins,
Searching in the mystery of time for a hidden meaning that can still uplift us.
The meaning of life's what we make
A message not simply to take
Intending no harm
With rhythm and charm
Emotion and euphony we fake
Our name is spoken carefully
Like it can break in someone's mouth
No one forgets it
No one says it without meaning
This name was not given
It was carried
Through storms
Inside the pockets of the frightened and the brave
It doesn't matter if it was mispronounced
Until the syllables bled
It doesn't matter if it feels heavier
Than the shoulders meant to bear it
This name is key
This name is a mirror
This name is a debt no one can repay
And when we sign it
Or whisper it
Or echo it from someone who knew us
The air shifts
Something remembers
Creation…brings aggravation,
what I’m plinking…can’t match what I’m thinking.
It’s this way…since our early days,
sad to say; but I’ll keep going.
What I see…lives only in me,
can’t come out…wants to, but not allowed,
hear it plain…what I make to play,
ain’t the same; but I’ll keep going.
The details…I try to no avail,
share what’s clear…make it all appear,
always fails…what I write down seems pale,
gnash and wail; but I’ll keep going.
His image…our work just a scrimmage,
not the game…that’s well beyond our brains,
has to be…full force we can’t see,
beyond me; but I’ll keep going.
And I bet…most folks will forget,
roll their eyes…he thinks he’s worth our time,
or they blast…it seems a thankless task,
makes you crash; but I’ll keep going.
What is true…we can’t do it for you,
always there…can drive some to despair,
never ends…something now comes again,
cannot mend, if I don’t keep going…
What is Love?
A four letter word comes from heart
Where faithfulness established from the start
I never imagine how it feels
When I found the person whom I can shared the reels
Then I wondered why and what really is?
The memories or language of love from this
I surrender to the genuine thoughtfulness
I divide my heart and open for forgiveness
Now it was still confusing the real meaning
Of love and how it can be dealt, too confusing
I just know that love is boundless and true
No one can ever give its exact value
Just love, feel it, share it and endure
This is the meaning of love when pure
Intentions, attentions, perfect combination
You and I can love, no buts, ifs or question
Emotional Depth
By
Damien Mac Mánais
Meandering thoughts,
blissful solitude surrounds me,
Hidden in selfish emotion,
well-being
well guarded
against selfish caring,
finding yourself
then another,
lost in a moment,
shattered now
fragmental heart,
scattered upon my soul,
giving oneself so deeply to another
in so short a time,
I feel foolish,
weakness abounds,
isolated,
alone but reluctant
to give up on myself,
can’t retreat into my emotional instability,
stilted growth of affection in my heart,
hopelessly lost,
feeling so bare,
how come I care, never again....
A man keeps planting flowers in a place no one visits.
It's not that the place is heavily guarded so no one can enter.
Or that the place is so complex, like love, many people are afraid to give it a chance.
It's not like that.
It is just an easy path to cross over to see that place where a man keeps planting flowers.
Expressionally, he loves what he’s doing.
At no point does he need someone who would appreciate him for his work.
He needs no one who would clap for him,
or criticize him, saying he doesn’t do it right and should work harder.
It's not like that.
No living breath has ever even touched the idea of planting flowers in a place no one visits.
But that man got it on his own.
He loves what he’s doing — but no one knows why.
And as the narrator,
I am also scared to see that place.
We dare believe in afterlife
lest there’s no justice in this universe
~ revoking freepass for moral lawlessness
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
When my little poem is sad, she cries.
It happens when people tell lies
about this, about that
and never really get at
the meaning of her sends,
her forwards,
or replies.
BiteSize Poetry Contest no121 // Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Contest Judged: 9/1/2025 1:49:00 PM
( 3rd Place )
Written: August 20, 2025
Each word a note, a quiet song,
lines rise and fall where hearts belong.
Pauses hum as loudly as the sound,
meaning dances, turning all around.
Rhythm threads through every heartbeat
and soul and melody at last meet.
Whenever I see a tear
Flowing down your cheek
I never know what to think
There are a million things it can mean
A tear can show sadness
That is the kind that goes forever
A tear can show happiness
It can be for a moment or longer
I would hate to be the one to make a mistake
Trying to make you feel better
When your heart is feeling truly happy
So, I will just wait until you are ready
Then you can tell me, and I will understand
And I will mourn or celebrate with you
Whatever you need when you need it
© Poem – VII/VIII/MMXXV
LRET
B-est
E-ver
L-ife's
I-nsight
N-ever
D-enies
A-ll
T-houghts
U-pheld
B-y
E-ach
R-ighteous
A-nalysis
©bfa062525
Monocrostic (Birthday of Belinda G. Tubera)
Life doesn't belong to any of us
It passes by,
unfathomable
It flows through our fingertips
Encapsulates us, satiates our spirits
Graces us with swollen ankles
And delicate skin prone to wrinkles
then one day,
a stranger will walk into your life.
before you know it, rambling conversation
will turn into late night laughs
that turns into meeting families
that turns into creating a family.
only little you knew,
how much this person would mean to you
and,
while you’ve known them such a short time
you feel like you’ve loved them a lifetime
>> true love, please.
[ERROR]unable to retrieve file 'true'
>> fine, then just love.
[ERROR]file 'love' can’t exist without 'true'
>> …just happiness, then.
[ERROR]requires connection to server 'live'
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