They call us softly and tenderly every night.
They adjust and fold to our every touch.
I know of none who sleeps without pillows;
Soft cushions made to embrace the human body.
Notwithstanding, there are those among
Us mortals who seem to think pillows are
For having fun and engaging in pillow fights
But that's another story, another poem.
There are things our bodies require for comfort.
Some require more comfort than others. One
pillow for some; three or more pillows for others
to reach their comfort zone. Indeed, we are
Creatures of comfort.
Pillows to decorate our beds
Pillows for the head and neck.
Pillows between our thighs.
Pillows to hold and to hug.
Pillows for propping our legs
Pillows under the back..
Pillows on top of us.
Moreover, so often it appears that there
Is a secret to arriving at just the right touch
Or better yet, the right pillow. At any rate,
We will toss and turn all through the night,
Reach for that heavenly pillow oasis.
Fortunately, many of do indeed find that
Comfort zone before the break of day.
Whether the comfort is to be found in the
Pillow or the person, I'm not really sure.
You asked me if knew Mr. Disappointment.
Having met him many years ago, I said yes.
I have had several encounters with him.
He has been one not easily forgotten. My
Best recall tells me I was 17 when I first
Met him at a bus station in Chicago. It was
There and then that he lied to me, and I
Became the victim of a con artist with
$10 less in my pockets.
I must say that there was a much bigger loss
Than $10 that took place in my heart that day.
However, without intention, Mr. Disappointment
Also taught me a very valuable lifelong lesson.
Had I never met him, I would not be as aware
Of deception and far less decerning of people.
We cannot always stay 'on point', because we
Live in an imperfect world filled with the likes
Of Mr. Disappointment.
There is no life without Mr. Disappointment.
However, we must not be bullied by him. He
Was designed to challenge us, and if possible,
Cause us to fail. Notwithstanding, we were
Designed by God to stand up and face him
'Head on' in order to succeed and excel.
It is so poetic, is it not,
That our lives are permiated
With much beauty and memory ;
Some, if not most of which, we forget.
But our lives forever reside in history
Where our life's treasury becomes our legacy.
Our personality maybe most terrific, and
our lives may be as prolific as the budding
Rose in early spring.
Like an orchestra, our song of life is played,
And some tunes and instruments are sang
And played by us , clearly manifesting our
Wills, plans, dreams, and goals.
Notwithstanding, it is equally obvious that
most of the beats of our lives are not
Determined by us alone. I am not an island,
And I do not stand in the winners circle alone.
Were this not true; and if my music of life had
no accompaments, I dread to awake to a different
reality. Because this is true, and were it not for
The Grace of God, there go I.
Those who say they know, yet can’t feel,
fellow soul’s joys and tears,
whose hands lack the power to heal,
are yet immersed in fears.
Notwithstanding books read,
without love we are dead,
our heart heavy like lead.
Why don’t their hearts glow ~
Those who say they know
Done me almost too well,
The birth of price, I say.
For notwithstanding my eager finalities,
I put a straw on my head.
I blended my conscience to cater devils,
Forever he told me not to.
Blemished was my innocence
Frequent even, more when I concluded.
Therefore I put up a stick by the tree
And saw what difference there could be.
Let alone death urge me to hasten,
Insanity begs me to come.
Take a water for my head,
Let me not dry myself up.
I gave too much for illusions,
Now mind you, I got hurt from collisions.
Another sniff, yes, just one more bite.
Another sight, just another sound to my eyes.
I locked my brain somewhere, inches away.
Heard it calling for logic
While I deprived myself away.
Done and done
Yet again, so much was done.
And then blame my great God for my iniquities,
I cried for my own pity.
“Never again”, I said and screamed,
Yet never again was washed by the stream.
So fragile was my fortitude
And lacked a concrete stance.
Once again, I fell again.
Another again, just one more.
At the end of this road, life's
If what holds one as enthralled
As this now on for it
Revivifies spirit
Then it would have been worthwhile.
The journey, notwithstanding!
Tiresomely featureless.
Or of twists, turns brought stress.
in a smile, a supernova explodes
sadness is wiped off the face
lights penetrates darkness
notwithstanding searing intensity
a winter among winters
is indian summer
,
For years he had thought
that God belonged to a secret society
one he could never be part of,
notwithstanding, he imagined himself a mystic,
In the prime of life, as sometimes happens,
rats began to gnaw at anchor ropes,
he began to drift away from his true self.
He became that most deluded of all beings –
a follower and a seeker.
Fortunately for his sanity,
he became a weaver of words,
a thought painter, an image maker,
a sort of poet.
His work was to be this enactment
upon a Scrabble board
a stage where sacred symbols were wrought
from alphabet salads.
If he were speaking now
he would tell you
that though he picked the letters.
and arranged the words
he is certain sure that any concept of
God-game game he played
always pointed back at himself,
and so, he found his truth again.>center>
Unfilled to over-flowing,
as was her bottle of tears,
with weeping for the fallen woman,
while from her lips to God's ears...
said the Mother Superior,
“I have completely lost track
of how often the Archbishop and I,
wearing ashes and cloth sacks,
crept into the crypt
and made the beast with two backs.
Altho' no one can hold a candle,
to his Grace, yes,
not even the Venerable Abbess,
flagellation notwithstanding,
as a nun married to You,
who committed sacrilege,
I'm ashamed to confess,
I broke your Lord's Commandment
as an unrepentant adulteress.”
When your heart and your head
Have a major disagreement,
Which body part should win?
Certainly not in every case,
But in 2020, my heart won.
Two of our dearest friends offered a gift to my
wife and me. My wife immediately consented
Without question, to the opportunity to go on an
All expenses paid cruise. I immediately said "No"
With my head, but I could not find the heart within
Me to say anything but "Yes".
Our friends had gone on 29 cruises and wanted
To share one of their greatest joys with us. Indeed,
I have what we call a bucket list, but going on an
Ocean cruise is not on my bucket list.
I confess that there was a secret war being waged
Between my head and my heart. With my calculating
head, I was losing one of the biggest conflicts of my life.
Moreover, by consenting to accept the gift, I learned
Experientially, a great lesson about selflessness.
Due to circumstances related to the COVID-19 virus,
The government canceled the scheduled cruise.
Notwithstanding, the heart of our dearest friends will
Forever have a special place in our hearts.
I am simple yet complex in my simplicity;
I have many masks and facets,
and will wear a multitude of hats.
I show the me I need you to see,
you'll never know the whole of me.
I am the person I want you to see
and am only satisfied if you're baffled
by the multiplicity of me.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on July 24, 2025 for contest MULTIPLICITY OF THE SELF sponsored by ALICE REYNOLDS
If life were a game of chess,
I would not be holding the chess pieces.
I wish to become a chessboard,
So I could see the wonders of life and be free
Or I may in another way I can explain
A plain tea that reflects the story of life,
The chess pieces will show your past life
How life battle is won through tactical warfare
The 64 squares is like arena of prizefighter,
Where you live life everyday like gladiator
Notwithstanding the hardship I face
Only at the end I won life with honor
Nevertheless the worn out skill of wisdom,
Made it all for me to victory and reward.
after Because I could not stop for Death, by Emily Dickinson
Because I would not stop for Death,
he kindly stopped for me.
A wilted bouquet in one hand—
a reminder of life's mortality.
We began to walk—he knew no haste—
side by side, as we always were.
In silence, no sympathies were spoken,
as he knew I often preferred.
We passed the house where I once strove
to play and know no sorrow.
We passed a creek whisking ashes downstream—
something I was hesitant to let it borrow.
Or, rather, it passed us—
the mist in the air quivering with a dog's final breath—
for only I began to falter
on our beaten and lonely path.
We paused before some foothills that seemed
serene, yet all too demanding.
The soon-to-be graves were scarcely visible here—
urns in my arms notwithstanding.
Since then, it has been decades, and yet
it still feels shorter than the day
Death first took my warm hand in his own
and his comforting coldness became mine for eternity.
There are people with whom
One might disagree at certain levels.
The dividing levels might even be ones
Of insensitivity, discouragement,
And even hurtfulness.
Notwithstanding such disagreements,
One might yet endorse and support
Such a one on other, more vital levels.
In so doing, one should see it, not as
a conflict of interest, but rather as
a higher view of the big picture.
To the best of my memory, the word brainwash
has been used in reference to me only twice.
The first time happened more than 50 years ago.
The second one occurred less than a year ago.
One referred to my religious involvement.
The other was connected to social ideology.
The first one came from a stranger
The other came from a relative.
When told that I had been brainwashed
in reference to my beliefs about Christ, I felt
nothing amiss about such assessment.
In fact, such a veiw of me was acceptable.
However, when charged by a relative that I had
been among certain people and allowed myself
to be brainwashed by them, I was taken aback
and deeply hurt.
I took offense by my relative's accusation and
told him so. He apologized for how it made me
feel, and I have forgiven him. Notwithstanding,
although the subject has not risen again, there
is a very thin wall between us regarding that
encounter. We are close friends, but I cannot
deny that something 'not good' happened that day.
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