I'm not your priotry,
Nor do I care.
I've learnt my place, it's certainly not fair.
The flower dares to strive but dreams to grow,
but she doesn't know she needs more
than the moons faint silver glow.
Her petals begin to shrivel,wrinkle and drop.
She was no longer able to look up to the treetop.
Her sight becomes dim,twisted and slim,
For her flower petals becomes more dim.
She yerned and regretted rejecting the
warmth and the light,
As the moon only had to offer the night.
It's shadows casted stripping her bare,
But she was to blame as the dweller.
A lesson tought well as she wobbles and tobbles.
For a flower who dares to strive With only
a moon will not thrive.
My gaze is high up above
black as it can be.
Every stars in the sky
are all my tears,
Hung in there patiently
waiting to fall.
In joy and sadness always
come unexpectedly,
Specially when heart is weary
and mind is blowingly blank.
But these stars so heavy
like a world carrying my back.
The annoying background
adds a long look of doubts,
Straight to the road I trod
wagging foot to step in.
The system of this world sigh
me in courage to do full force.
Loading success is a waiting game
of triumph to adversities,
Resting below my knees
is the summation of what's life ahead.
I taste the wind deep in my chest
each breath sharp with sky and grit.
Dawn pushes heavy against my shoulders
every step thunders beneath me.
Hills rise, silent and stubborn...
creeping memories I cannot shake.
My hands throb, my legs burn.
A silent spark beats beneath my ribs.
Every footfall sends a spark.
Each pulse beats with stubborn will.
They rush past - brushing my arm
their courage carried by the wind.
The last stretch hums beneath my bones, a rhythm only the determined feel.
I’m tired, but I keep going.
The ache is there but I carry on.
The finish isn’t the line I cross,
it’s the strength I hold beyond it.
it’s the strength I carry past it.
Every step brings a small victory.
Every breath keeps its own strength.
A life built one stride at a time...
foot by foot, wind at my back.
Alone with my thoughts
I discover who I am
exploring heretofore hidden
chambers of a neglected soul
Alone traversing the ocean’s shore
I debate the shifting tides of life
Vicissitudes too subtle to detect, trapped
in the traumas of family life
Alone at holiday time
grateful for a reprieve
from endless sniping sessions
I take the pulse of the season, and find myself!!
Alone, preparing to die
Miserable wretch, I
Stillness in the night
Bless me with insight
Guide me by the light
Let my light shine bright
Strengthen me with might
Always be my stay
Help me every day
Teach me what to say
Listen when I pray
Let me know my way
Speak so I may learn
Help me to discern
With me be not stern
Deepen my concern
Soon let me return
Never more alone
Let me come back home
Let me no more moan
With no flesh or bone
Return to heaven’s zone
My Dream Within A Dream Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
9/16/2025
Edgar Allan Poe: "All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream."
My Dream Within A Dream
Somnambulant dreamer,
Dancing in time to silent music,
Pirouetting arabesques,
And grand jetés performed as on stage.
While all around her people stared,
Astonished by what this darling dared.
Leaping, spinning, and body rolls,
She danced through her dream out of control.
Tumbles and twirls, tempo frenzied,
Her youth and beauty were so envied.
Lithesome grace utterly entrancing,
This young beauty caught dream dancing.
So lost in the dream, her steps faltered,
Lovely dancer, soon to be martyred.
Upon the pyre of lust and greed,
Selfish desires of the watchers' need,
Pulled against the dancer's grace,
And brought a tear to the lovely face.
The crowd's screams broke the count,
Her mistakes began to mount,
Until what once was sweet and pure,
Became something so unsure.
The dream, a nightmare instead,
The dance, a thing of terrible dread,
Our lovely dancer dreams no more.
I've been cross-pollinating my main membrane
With absolutely nothing but the finest of strains
After awhile, all of the strains seemed just same
But...I can't seem to remember all of their names
I remember some, well, some were kind of like wine
Because some left you sour, but some were real fine
But, the one train still stuck, that still haunts my brain-line
I keep trudging red-eyed and dead-eyed...like Frankenstein!
I live on baked brains and eggs, scrambling my grains
I feel no pain in my legs, with these rambling strains
I'm bleeding my veins, cuz my hunger ever drains
I'd be better off using...his Frankenstein brains!
Oh, please feed my Frankenstein, I don't need no wine
Sip your Canadian Mist, just leave the leaf behind
If I don't smoke a toke soon, I might lose my mind
Then my ass will then be grass...just like Frankenstein!
#Tone_it_down_my_dear
breath runs out of my lungs, this dungeon on my body grips tighter, yet I'm still nearing to her finer reflection..,
Glare in her face keep trapping my courage to confront her, I look, but still come back with tattered emotions..,
she creates so much iniquities to my sanity. One glance in her eyes, in this maze of her beauty, constantly return with drained batteries of my emotional and mental gps, leaving me wondering in the wilderness of her pulchritudeousness...
Wonder if her heart poses so pure and innocent as her smile, Troubled is my soul and mind, when fear keep piling wonders in place of confidence...
in my dreams I'm man, but her presence turns me into a lad, how hard I try to stand firm but my knees fails my strength, I need special ingredients of courage, mine, she had long exhausted
#Poetic_Ink
If there was an alien in my bushes
I would not call the police
They'd commit me
If it was real
or not real
I would not approach it
All those movies with humans
being friendly to aliens
What if it had a contagious disease
or spat acid that melted my skin
Maybe it would hump my leg
or throw up on my carpet
I already have a dog that does that
No Sir, I'd leave it be
for someone else to see.
trust me he said sweetly
i had my doubts but went along
surprise... instincts don't often lie
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
thoughts fly into my head at all times of day
I capture about a tenth of them
The others disappear, never to return
Sometimes I wish I was a recorder
or a robot with an inhouse video camera
Maybe I could write more poems
or create more paintings
why are you laughing?
you think sixteen hundred and twenty-seven paintings are enough?
fiddle
diddle
sunday
funday
If he knew,
but what if he does and feels that way too?
Foolish I am,
for hoping for his feelings being the same as mine.
What if he sees me as a friend and not more, and I cry myself to sleep or even my death.
Sometimes, every time.
Sometimes I hope, but then it disappears.
I know my chances are low,
and I get depressed,
every time I try to rest.
Imagining holding his hands,
being held in his arms,
feeling loved as I always dreamt about.
Dreamt about my whole life.
I know,
I have time.
But I can't let go.
Let go of such feelings I have,
for you.
And then,
my poem becomes a message.
Transformed from "he" to "you".
Hoping you somehow find this and feel this way too.
But what if you know,
and feel this way too and are foolish for hiding it, like me, from you.
Don't rest!
You can't!
I know...
I know I can't rest,
rest my head on your shoulder,
cause you wouldn't understand.
Wouldn't understand this wild river I have.
It never rests.
Never rests, it flows in my head,
until it explodes.
My head explodes, from the wild river I have.
Day and night, it never stops,
it flows and flows,
until I explode.
I know, everyone has this wild river,
but never the same.
So you wouldn't understand
why I can't rest my head on your shoulder.
But oh, how I want that to feel.
Feel the love you share,
give me a lake,
the lake of peace and rest I couldn't get,
before I sink and drown myself to my death.
Everyone has it's own river, I know.
But I couldn't let you drown, like I do.
Come to me, whenever it gets dark,
rest your head on my shoulder.
I give you my lake,
my heart,
and the peace I want.
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?
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