Some say,
'Let's see if we can't do it,'
before applying
themselves to it.
I'm sure, positive in fact,
'Let's see if we can,'
would be a more-rewarding move
to enact, than
attempting a negative to prove.
What did you do?
Acting cool
Making VIP alpha list
Curling a fist?
Scan word floor
You may find four
Sounding good
As writings should
So, summon 'a,i,o,u'
Hush, 'I am not through'
Using this writing tool
Pointing out fools
Swimming in soup pool
Starting buzz
With its warming fuzz
Hail king
Only thing
That will sing
Following 'A', in command
Major B, who has a plan
To find a way out of this jam
My young child, I bid you good night
Now go to your room and light
Your fantasy story sight
Taking you far
Lapping any shooting star
Breed
not blood
not color
that you carry
all over your skin
that projects inner self
energize your whole being
from head to toe that you all know
since childhood that made your character
an ally or foe of the modern world
Nothing ahead
but a long straight road
I vent out my feelings,
quite an unload
eerily quiet
except the rustling of leaves
waiting for a response
one that will put me on my knees
Letting anyone have power over how i feel
is something I can never reveal
For some reason I still have hope
my mind wondering down a dangerous slope
That hope eventually subsides
slowly restoring my pride
I look at that invite sitting on my table
It still should be fun
even though I have to change it to a minus one.
“A fresh, crisp, winter day,” she said
I said, “Idd is… but by dose is red.”
“Handmaid of Patriarchy”
the garden rezoned
Embattled virility
misogyny cloned
As Delilah revolts
a new Samson on scene
One half of the whole
left to drown in the stream
Each genders new quotient
to minus the plus
A He without Her
— the destruction of us
(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: May, 2025)
Deficit of
wonder
climbing
the walls
Deficit of
verbiage
the message
forestalled
Deficit of
promise
the future
on hold
Deficit of
time
eternity
— shoaled
(The New Room: August, 2024)
Without me
you’re nothing
With me
— nothing more
(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)
The existential bird in the supreme sky
flies abandoned with the rhythm of swan song.
The tapestry of time wraps with eternity hue
the innate immortality essence,
etched for the uniqueness of being.
The winsome whisper of the extant wind
rustles the lively lotus petals of perpetuity.
In solemn space of sanguine solitude of mind
deranged clamor subsides
in the eroded silent sanctum of entity.
Beneath the worn out layers of individuality,
thousand suns shine perennially in blissful bay.
In the seraphic sky of divine perception,
ageless consciousness dances
with the rays of nirvana.
I am then the immutable hymn of sanctified soul,
echoing through the melodic strata of consciousness.
The devout mantra intoned in the temple of heart,
resonates with the symphony
of the sacred spirit indomitable.
I am the essence of connected oneness,
transcend the self-seeking perimeter of identity.
The cosmic creator of resounding silence of eternity
makes my awakened soul proclaim the divine decree,
I am His absolute definition.
Shines the season brimming with grandeur, rich
In winter... frills of ice and snow bewitch
My pine trees capped with tinsels evergreen :
Comes spring-- dizzy where buds' hues turn to sheen
While air minty weaves on glens to unfurl
My trail scenting walks on plush lanes...hours whirl.
Then summer calls, hundred moths blaze cloud's fire,
Red-hot nights flaming, sizzling moon's desire
To entice a June love I bring to shore,
Till fall chants... boughs spilling lace on damp floor
Relishing life's harvest...true hearts content
When I trace cycles blooming but not spent;
For this spirit thrives on stars, earth,
' neath clay...
I am life that begins and ends each day
Between seasons, time pauses for a while,
As hands nourish solstices that beguile.
For I, God's nature child, could grant relief
Bringing hope for man's journey...root to leaf
I am that kid who grew up in public school
that kid who usually followed most rules.
I am the kid who was bullied by many
had a few friends, but really not any.
I am the one who will shop your Instacart order
and yet ware my feelings on my shoulder.
I am the bus monitor on a special needs bus
I interact with the children so they don't fuss.
I am the woman with a wonderful man
he is the start and finish of what I am.
I am a Princess a Child of Jesus The King
Jesus Christ is Lord of my life and my everything.
A mortal I am without a doubt,
a chance of nature from which I sprout,
a blank from the past that never was,
a blank future into which shall pass.
like flickers of sparks blown in the night,
am a brief moment of life in sight,
like bubbles in rain that float and burst,
am flesh and blood that goes back to dust!
transience is wisdom of creation,
immortal not my expectation,
no pleasure of birth, no fear of death,
my sojourn on or under the earth.
qualify me not with names you give,
nor the relations with whom I live,
not degrees that I have earned in schools,
nor trade I did that have taught me tools.
I am a blank as nothing can be,
a soundless whisper is what is me,
the truth of my being makes me smile,
an inch is this life, then blank for miles.
Minus identity, who am I?
An identity, a name, which binds my human form,
Holds my ego, keeps me enslaved in material bonds,
Without this identity, I will be free like a bird.
Minus identity, no pride, no vanity, will set in my mind,
No job security, no financial security, will bother me,
No social prestige demands, no fake showmanship, will haunt me,
With the peaceful life, my soul will be free.
No name, no identity, who cares,
We came to world like this and will go like that.
Minus identity, who am I?
At the dawn of early light,
On a planet far away,
In a womb's eternal night.
Once my rocks were boiling,
And the heat was forming me,
In my garden grotto,
And my raging inland sea.
Oh Penny, dear, you gave me birth,
To care for one like me,
You taught me well, when I was not,
But what else could I be?
I sought, alone, the solitude,
Of one so prone to hide,
You pushed me where I would not go,
To venture forth in pride.
You came along, to be my friend,
A friend, you could not see,
Invisible, without a clue,
A Mister Nobody.
For who am I,
And who are you, without identity,
A Milky Way, is child’s play,
Beneath a family tree.
It's an impossibility,
all things have an identity,
even poor John Doe is now known
by that simplest of nom de plume.
Meanwhile on the news over there
the suspect it's said has gray hair,
with a purple shirt and red hat;
what kind of fashion sense is that?!
Rain is the rain; sun is the sun,
the tallest tales are often spun
by one who has nothing but fear
and feels safe when spreading a smear.
And, so, for your information
I'm just a conglomeration
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