On move seldom in a preset sequence,
Life unfolds with its own whims and fancies
As day gets dawned-- a gift of existence,
In whose own rhythm everything dances.
A life is no novel read page to page,
It gets read, unfolding onward as goes,
I bow to past for wisdom, for its age
As it gets past its graveyard of shadows
To be ready to take on new journey
With an empty bag and an open mind
That I take on challenges uncanny
And still keep options on, to peek from hind.
The year past by let be Janus-headed,
Life evolves only when it looks ahead.
____________________________
Sonnet | 11.01.2026 | future, life, Ney Year, past
Note: This is in continuation of the poem ‘Old memories, new dreams’.
Napoleon the Second died today,
albeit back in eighteen thirty-two.
He had no truck with men like Soult or Ney,
but died too young to form a proper hue.
Would he have thrown a million lives away?
It ultimately matters what we do:
the world can disregard the dross we say,
and slaughter would begin again anew,
since ego , by its nature, seeks out prey:
the third Napoleon stood in the queue!
HACKED BY YOU
This is Fun!
.
The
flock of
Canada geese
fly south
to winter
they tire
argue squawk
disagree how
nice it
would be
if they
could stop
rest eat
sleep then
move onward
in their
jour- ney
Winter night, a blessed night.
Chim..ney bill..ow..ing pale white.
Milk and cookies on the hearth
Waiting, Santa Claus festive loud mirth.
Gifts left under the tree.
Full and merry was he.
Winter night, a blessed night.
Children smile at the sight.
A white Christmas, wintry dream,
Children's eyes agleam.
Voices whisper
A baby in the manger stirred,
They went to his bedside,
Watch His Father smile with pride.
12/22/2021
Silent Night
A Christmas Carol Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Meena can drive Corona,
whispered Tina to Nina.
Is she a doctor?
How could she master?
Ney dear, it is Corolla.
Reason you give, rings unsound,
Beyond logic, and no longer valid,
Premises of lies, conclusions rogue,
Arguments and fallacies, just full of lies.
Think you I be deceived, and love you again?
Ney, think I cherished, these last days?
Ney, think I drowned, in your plays?
Ney, I think you failed, and I wont be fazed.
Thym tiss the Moon-light,
Shawn on me, & a glimpse of
The Sun, in my Mind...
What was this Idea, Lost On Me...
Fore, every tear, it seems,
Ney it twas what I Lost,
But how it seemed always lost,
& Always Found,
Like the Glimpse of The Sun.
Thus wilting becomes of me, the star so constant, yet so lonely,
Was tiss the hight yet to be reached, what is our limit?
Thy'est thunder reaps my soul for what it sews...
What tiss thee end?
Ney encomber thee, powerfully tempted, upon thee,
What tiss the end?
A'Loft, a-sunder, encombered, enwrapped in a colapse
Of thoughts falling like snowflakes in the sun.
A LIMERICK OR THREE INSPIRED BY THE
TOM CUNNNINGHAM
on
JAN ALLISONS
BIRTHDAY
~~~~~~~~~
there is a poetry soup poet called Tom
at composing limericks, so well done!
a birthday wish he wrote for Jan,
a birthday date I did ney ken!
Oh I wish I could sing the birthday song
now there's another named Mick
who's birthday wishes for Jan, hic
I toast, whilst having a coke
nowt in't, honest no joke
and now for my next party trick
there is a lady who goes by the name of Jan
on poetry soup you'll find her o yes you can
Allison, her nee, sorry don't not know
her poetry I do, it really does glow
and she abides on the beautiful Isle of Man
~~~~~~~
Thanks for the heads up Tom! Mick
Poem: Never Give Up!
Change means growth and letting go of the past. I know it can be easier said than done. I reached a place in my life that I don't want to loose the things are more important to me. I had people who cared. And told me not to give up. Sometimes I felt like everyone else was perfect but me. I kept going anyway right into exhaustion. Something's are meant to be taken literally. Never Give Up! Somebody is sees the fight in you. So pick your self up and your brain hit the restart button. Never Give Up No it's not too late let the ney Sayers eat their own hate. I had a few battles myself and I am proud because with courage, meditation, and self care. I made it !. Never Give Up! You won't break because you took time to reach for the reflection and zen. At the end of the day we are all human. Never Give Up!
Thy will is a poem
Wrot from thee
Consumeth thy
In light heavenly
From thy will comeths thee
What is thee poem
In thee yet to be
Doth thee do i know
What should i do
Where do i go
With this poem
Where do i go
Sanctity, eruption of soul
Admire desire the fire inside
Living loving a dream content
A promice forever kept
With love will i die
Will i die with love
The same question
But opposites
Forever loom in the disgrace i wrot
Saught bleekly in the nightly dark
Forever swim in a stew of thought
Lost, lost, lost, lost
Give mythm the desire
To break free of this poetry
This lust denial envy hust
Productivity
End thee lust
Kill thy foe
Of writing
Desire
Ney the love of me is secreeting ney i am living fore love gone and swept in the wind, what am i thee love this lust i want it gone but how how when this writting goes on, what do i do now but lingure on i live in a serenity of love lost now what to mine desires but a peom hence hust.
Linguring on
What now
Time has become
Of us
Now the poem ends
And all is well
Come back for more
To face the swell
The Star's lit up like fire
A tune of thee tenasity within thee
A mellow tune of thee
What atrocity, ney,
Given life to the forest,
around thee,
Given shelter from the hesitently
gentle rain,
But to see the star's shawn
over the sky once more,
ney, ney, to thee being
an atrocity.
Ney & I do love thee,
love thee with all my heart
lit up the sky was
with star's.
~I Know . . . I don't Know~
Thee This Crept From me,
Thus dawning of Thy'en Sunlight, is Thus Dawn
of The Mourning Light, Twhich is Thus Mourning
& Mourning Thus Loss Return of Thyn,
twiss is which page 123? Ney, Twas which mourning.
Not Thy Loss But Why, . . and striving
To achieve the answer to
Not to what come next but I
shant not notice, I did not . . .
Fore the light tiss hide everything,
in a Blanket offer Shadow is tuss hide it
From the weather is tiss nobler of thee to
hinder thee tuss twiss twas thee of twas thee & Thee . . .
Nobler Than what Twass Nobler, Maybe?
Fruit to my loin, what less nobler?
My less thym, thymn Yes? No tiss nobler?
My Life tiss Nobler of twiss & what is tiss
what was my life and what it is now?
Now what more time & More Question's,
But Not Many . . . To my delitie
Fore What is the Future
Can I see thee
Fore What Would I Wake Up & See
What? . . . and Not tiss Now.
Fore What & lay my Eye's on it
& For Now, What Thyn Until, The End? Friend?
~Forever End~
To Thy, Be, an over barring
Baron, of Lesser Bliss to
the Sarcasticness. Lesser, is
the Evil, Ney, Thy is lesser . . .
Lesser Be the evil in our
Heart's, Fore, Thyn is closer
to the one & God, & for thyn
haste, to entrap the cause
& squash it, ending pain,
ending debate, having found a
way, to illude the under-
current, of an endless,
Equation. Be Thy Within
Thy Soul Forever &
ever more, wanting,
Thyn'est Forever, In
The Wake, of Forever
In, twas choise, of
whoms choosing, Can a
mind forget not regret,
not, or fore that, from
someone, within come
to Forgive. Playing back the
Rhymn over & over
again, this game of mine,
to intertwine triumph
with thee loss which
beckons me more &
more, in the coin toss.
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