Late night conversations
Leading me to long nights with
Torn up journal pages and
Back to back convos in my head
If I knew the respect I deserve
Was never there, why didn’t I leave?
Why did I have so much faith in you?
Am I too desperate trying to love again?
Sometimes I question if I was too fast
Or wasn’t moving fast enough for you?
We were on two different timings and
We could never agree on the zone we’re in
I remember the weekly arguments
The tired look on my face
With the lowest grades I’ve ever had
Everything felt delicate and I didn’t want to break it
When I think about you,
I get scared trying to love again
Sometimes I wish you’d get punished
But there’s no point to it.
At the end of the day
You still carry part of my heart
And I’m trying to peace it back together
So I can give it to the right person
No more waiting for the next one
I don’t expect my feelings to disappear
But I hope one day I can look back
And thank you for helping me know
What I want next for me.
Maybe I was stupid for loving you
But I won’t for the right one.
A gum leaf lets go—
not falling,
exactly,
but trying each wind
for its name,
turning
green-side,
grey-side,
turning—
turning—
until the earth
lifts
to meet it.
Time i see it not.' Yet its journey has yet not stopped' if two hundred years were
The span of your days.? You would read
Better, the woes of each age' failing this
Hit the history trail, if more did could have
Less seething, or tantying, or railing rage.? Look at 1853; 56.' You might get to learn of dark tricks, 1910 a time of Spanish flu, 1914 and a war just grew? Forty one years untill the second go.' To clear out
fachists is the way it did go.' 1965 we got
Into nam..' right after the Korean one
damn! con-vid has been and gone
If you were two hundred now you
would have lived through every, one..Maybe you can see a pattern now, old europe can be a greedy sow, many world leaders, on puppet strings, its not just a theory, things
Turn to similar in our timeframe again, convid has been and gone' old europe eyes Crimea again..For you see a stratagist, once said who rules there, holds the world, in a
pillory, Fred or charlie or wally? Or who.? Can't you see
On which foot is the shoe.' I suggest you find out really fast, or your jacksie, might
Get one up it? way too hard' and, quite fast.'
I took a trip on trains and buses thru memory lane.
Tried to find several things there I thought I left behind.
But upon my arrival, I only found I went there in vain.
Stanza 1
Lost in a loop again,
Where assurances polished,
But actions stay missing.
Stanza 2
Lost in a loop again,
Hearing lips craft carefully
Sentences,
That collapse once the room
ejects.
Stanza 3
Lost in a loop again,
Where apologies come
Pre-packaged,
But accountability never
Conveys.
Stanza 4
Lost in a loop again,
Listening to voices rehearse
Integrity,
Like a script they never intend to perform.
Stanza 5
Lost in a loop again,
Caught between what they
Say
And what they refuse to do.
Stanza 6
Lost in a loop again,
And the echo becomes a
Warning,
That lip service is just
Another silence.
brainwashed zombie
introvert unawares
unfalteringly spiteful ghost
indulgently reflective queen
ambulate the puppeteer parade
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 21–27, 2026)
I had set out,
meaning to go to the market,
walking past
the old woman’s pond.
Then I thought,
the market would be crowded,
full of noise and commotion.
I would lose myself
in that throng.
And so, ever since,
I have been walking
only the roads,
past the old woman’s pond.
For years—
when the soul stars dream and die...
I called it caution:
the way I listened for his footsteps
before entering a room,
the way my thoughts learned
to stand behind my teeth.
In the book of things unsaid
I pressed a leaf—
foliage of farewell—
between two pages,
its red gone brown, its veins
still spelling the road away.
O fall, let this lore of love be the last
command disguised as tenderness.
Let the house forget my silence.
Let the mirror lose his face.
I am the Eyes of Time.
I have watched a tree survive
every season of being stripped
and still keep its roots.
neither dusk nor dawn can delude me:
for the leaf of life sleeps upon my lips...
but when I speak my name,
it rises into the wind.
TO GRACEFULLY MOVING ONWARD
In doing God’s work,
Time did not stop; it was us:
Stalled and trapped in sin:-
May God have mercy on us
For that Satanic rest stop:-
What is a ripple without its rhythm?
Ripples and rhythm fashion life
Together like a pulsing heart
Rippling with the magic flow
Caught in rhythm like the beat
Flowing, swirling, with ups and downs
Creeping along with measured steps
A team of joined togetherness-
The Dance of Life goes rolling on.
If I should die
Before the dawn, overcome
by a morbid scene. Rise up!
My soul – step to the Light!
And the brighter dream heart
Keeps. Caged men may be subjects
Of time, forced to obey and
Bend, but the spirit once freed minds
No such rules, will love where it
Wants~ or offend. So, laid down I may be – cleaned,
Drained and perfumed—beyond then, life’s hurtful
Rhetoric~ nevermore be gloomed.
A grandson said to his grandfather,
"Grandpa, it is said that sometimes
'No' does not mean 'No'. It is said
That sometimes 'No' means, 'Don't
Give up on pursuing me, but come
After me more'.
And he also said, "Grandpa, one time
I saw a sign that read, ' Don't accept a
'No' until you have heard it twice'.
In reply to his grandson, the grandpa
Said, "Well, son, I don't know about
Such 'No's' as you refer. I only know
That I was taught, 'Yes' means 'Yes',
And 'No' means 'No". Anything beyond
That could lead to confusion".
The grandpa further stated, "That doesn't
Mean that I do not sometimes continue
Knocking on closed doors. But it does
Mean that principally speaking, for more
Than 60 years, I have known when to move on."
The autumn wind of fourteen-
ninety- nine
Blew over Basel in a crisp, sharp
line,
Where Swabian battles found their
silent close,
And from the ash, a sovereign
peace arose.
On twenty-second days of that
September chill,
The ink was dried, the clashing
swords were still.
The Holy Empire loosed its ancient
hold,
As Swiss resolve was etched in lines
of gold.
The treaties signed, the mountain
cantons free,
To chart their course of armed
neutrality.
While far away, across the shifting
deep,
Old empires woke from centuries of
sleep.
The month drew closed, the
modern world awake,
With every bond the Swiss had
dared to break.
A second half of autumn, fierce and
grand,
That drew the borders of a fearless
land.
How far can someone be pushed to the edge before they just jump
Self sabotage everything because you always feel your not enough
Walking on glass around others and understanding their pain but when it comes to yourself no one does the same
How far can someone go walk the miles in someone else's shoes
Before you forget you're someone else too
How much can you feel for someone else before you start breaking down
Is it your own emotions or just watching someone else drown
When you put in for someone else and give them the crown, but you get the scraps and try to keep them down
What does it mean when you lose yourself and you left it somewhere along the way and start to feel numb and it just never goes away
What do you do when your stepping on glass and hope it doesn't cut
Do you walk down the line or do you stop..
You open early morning
to sunlight in a chamber
past the threshold.
I’ve yet to know
what the day may bring
late summer
a calling to live
live again.
The cat roams
the room
after I give it
water and food.
Someone sleeps
in the front room.
I’ve closed you
for now. I must
awaken to what
lies ahead.
The voice of someone
I’ve known calls
then another and another
a chorus of memories—
I’ve never forgotten.
Bedroom door
I’ve closed you
but dreams linger.
The branch still in bloom
waves in the wind
and a sparrow flutters
by the window
and yes
a threshold to embrace
but I can never close
passages to my many lives.
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