Nonchalantly some-
one put a "kick me" sign on
the back of your shirt
(Without you knowing)
And someone came up behind
you and kicked your can
A harbinger says:
No to sullying and to
Bullying, be warned
In the Seventies
We got away with things not
Allowed today 'K
It’s set to be the heat today
As it was yesterday - I fathom
The God still takes us for a clay
Can’t tell one hot day from another
The ghost of you comes down but I
Can’t see if you are here
Though I can feel your loving smile
As if you are so near
As you once were in happy days
We nonchalantly spent
Maybe if I could see your face
I’ll be that ghost you met
In our lifetime’s recent past
Under your apple tree
We’ll meet again, revived from dust
Hot summer day it’ll be.
Noodles
Noodles are routinely
Neglected when discussing foods that
Negatively affect health. Their high carb content
Necessitates people on a diet must watch how much they consume.
Naturally this can be difficult to do when pasta is eaten
Nonchalantly. Some benefits do exist as they are fortified with
Niacinamide so they are
Not a total
No-no. If
Noodles are made with all
Natural products they can be somewhat
Nutritious.
Nevertheless, they can be
Noxious to one’s well-being.
Now, let me say, I am
Not
Neurotic about the subject of eating
Noodles. In fact, I say
Eat them every day!!
attitude
detached
behaviour
a maze
of
oddities
to
outwardly
explore
varied
veristic
feelings
translate
as
phenomena
dispassionate
pretext
undeserved
undeniable
in
existential
reality
a potential
to
cloak
instability
nonchalantly
exaggerate
&
marginalise
figuration
with
a sense
of
universal
perspective
Jeans and sandals strolling along the beach
Unfolds the magic of summer
Natural beauty captured at sunset
Easy living no cares in the world
Sublime rays reflected nonchalantly off gentle waves
Kaleidoscopic explosion of a cacophony of colour
In itself mesmerizing to our delighted senses
Evening approaches, the moon not far behind
Silky smooth the touch that creates memories
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
The practice is simple, all we need to do,
is to quietly watch where attention flows,
letting not thoughts impulsed by mind continue,
shifting to silence, where flame of bliss endows.
Offerings of the world, embrace and release,
flowing nonchalantly like the morning breeze,
returning always to bliss in heart aflame,
being the absolute truth that has no name.
Light wispy clouds nonchalantly parade
They dance their waltz across blue skies
Free moving pageantry for passersby
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
Traversing the thin veil between dream and reality,
Running on steam, quietly chugging towards eternity.
Amidst a night awashed with celestial brightness.
Impavid despite the flame & speed.
Nonchalantly navigating where desires lead.
standing erect as a funnel of light
the world of forms whirls around our presence
lucid dream beheld by spherical sight
viewed nonchalantly by omnipresence
thus our eye single in life pulse dual
is the motionless substratum of life
all that moves employs love as the fuel
to throb in vibrance and to feel bliss rife
we as Self dwell in the cave of our heart
being that wherefrom all intents arise
with each breath feeling bliss ignition start
we behold in delight offered surprise
dipping in and out of love’s vibration ~
we are poised in the void of cessation
Don’t count me out because
I’m not in lockstep with you,
and before I nonchalantly dropkick myself
back to the starting point,
let me point out that because of my whiteness,
I am not
a knuckle dragging racist, hysteric, insurrectionist,
white supremacist, terrorist, cultist,
deplorable, irredeemable,
nor a hypocrite or illiterate.
And the recent gender-neutral policy?
I am
a woman, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt and first cousin.
I have a mortgage, enjoy Jamaican stew, and
I am married to a black man.
I’m originally from Idaho. It’s okay to ask me
“Where are you from?” or “Where were you born?”
I promise I won’t accuse you
of micro-aggression.
I do not have guilt.
I stand my ground,.
It’s okay if you do not like what I have to say:
but I remain a
free White woman who
believes in constitutional principles.
Yes—words do matter
Beneath the dusty streets where children play
the twilit baneful torture tunnels lay
where many innocents are laid to rot
among them, some still breathe but countless not.
Among the dusty streets, the children act
their role to maximize a shock impact
on our naive, jaundiced media types
greedily turning up to earn their stripes.
Amidst the dusty streets, the children shield
the homes where missile launchers are concealed;
not one child wished to execute this role;
expect to pay the devastating toll.
In dusty streets, now innocence is lost
and children’s lives are nonchalantly tossed,
by tribes with little desire to debate,
upon the altar of ancestral hate.
Appears a pigeon at leisure
nonchalantly walking hopping from table to table
~ looking for attention and treats
AP: 1st place 2025
Have you ever tried choking? He asked nonchalantly.
“No,” she said. *with a wrinkled nose of disapproval*
“Want to try it?” *His approach couldn't hide his excitement*
“Ok,” she said, absent mindedly running her index finger over his lips.
“you can choke me,” she added slowly,
“if I can stab you repeatedly
with the 7 inch stainless steel
nail-file I keep under my pillow.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
Better By Myself by Hey Violet
Cash
It’s king
Makes tills ring
But here’s the thing
What we call a till
I suspect, always will
According to my sister
(which, in slang is skin and blister)
In the U.S. is a register
But when tills (or registers) are ringing
Which explains why shopkeepers are singing
I watch, nonchalantly debating
It’s what I do while I’m waiting
How many words mean ‘money’
Well, pony and monkey
May be quite funky
But dough and bread
In my head
Still mean
Cash
A fly flew through the kitchen window, I was frying,
He was big, fat and very black,
He nonchalantly settled on the drying rack,
No doubt had followed the aroma of food, uninvited prying,
With tea towel and fly swatter, was armed and eyeing.
Flew closer to the gas burner, unafraid of dying,
Both of us ready for deadly battle,
He would certainly not live to tattle,
There got you, but as hard as I was trying,
He was edging nearer to the liver I had frying.
Searching with his compound eyes, he found an aperitif filler,
A small onion, his taste-buds now craving,
My anger now increasingly scaling,
Then with the prowess of a tactical serial killer,
Lashed out with the tea towel, wiped out the critter.
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