By Phan Tan Hai
Writing a few lines of calligraphy,
praising the Blessed One—
the ink spreads like tears,
soaking gratitude deep into the soul.
Writing a few lines of calligraphy,
an offering to Thay of Plum Village;
lifting my head, I hear a crane’s cry
calling someone’s name across the sky.
From these few lines of calligraphy,
the strokes turn into a forest of flowers,
fragrancing each verse with sweetness—
the whole sky singing Dharma songs.
--- Dedication to Thay Nhat Hanh
Since the night you offered your wing
You have held the gold key to my soul
you have buried me into your spirit
you have blessed me with righteous hands
you have poured your goodness onto my heart
like olive oil from a jar of stone
and provided me with comfort and rest
from all of my heart aches and afflictions
like a bed without springs
since the night you offered your wing
what could i do
but stop and let pass
the funeral procession
for a beloved horse
who lived a life
fraught with nobility
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
It has come to this that there’s nothing save bliss,
with divine magnetism humming day and night,
compelling us to plunge into the abyss,
wherein we see our true self as living light,
in time dissolved peace where nothing is amiss,
the afterglow making our auric field bright.
We share this truth readily with one and all,
although we cannot prove these sights we recall.
Olivia offered oatmeal to her obstinate dragon Oscar Lee.
He stared at her, wondering “is she trying to kill me?”
“Do not want it,” he told her. “it does not look tasty.”
“I put maple syrup on it, she said, very pleasantly.
So oatmeal was imbibed by the dragon Oscar Lee.
Who now asks for it with syrup almost daily.
Moral of the story is to taste new foods pleasantly.
You also might find a new favorite that is pretty tasty.
O' so fine so fairest ever true
IN His presence
You're His Blessings, offering and in HIM
In you He birth good things so true
Blessed are those Offered Offerings
From our Father to you
5/20/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
This letter arrived this morning..
"Dear Sir, it is with great honour to inform you
That with the perspicuity of realistic narrative art
And the diversity and universality of myth
Your work illuminates the human condition in the world of today
You have therefore been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature
Cheers, you're the man."
What audacity
To disturb this idiosyncratic taste bubble
This stun and cut bluestocking
My 35 second play
My mango tango d drops
My surgical quality
I ain't getting on a horizontal float wheel
Stockholm can screw themselves
When reprobate blackguards are inferring
I'll stay here
If there's a need for shooting to start
I'll start shooting
Fun bags and polluted cities
Round off my morning, honey
Time for a tea
Medieval queens used to drink pints
I'll 'ave two for breakfast
I am not for sale Stockholm
Captain Hook went to Eton
I've got my bachelors
Leave this knack mental giant alone by-blows
In this obscure world,
I am the light he gave me...
That's why I look for the sun
that feeds me
from darkness...
In the face of unhealthy silence,
I attempt to talk to my soul...
even if my selves
become saddened
i search happiness
with harmony...
I abandoned intrigues
and I signed the agreement...
I walk hand in hand now
with poetry...
I'm no longer helpless,
I'm most... nothing sad
further content,
I'm a poet!
Her hand she'd offered
Her heart he'd spurned
Tears torched her pillow
as Equilibrium burned
Gold poet verses
Shine poetry paradise
leave poems offers
Offered money and no any fees,
Plus a profitable, tempting term!
They are scammers, be a stern,
Banks never did the things like this.
I-nspiring
M-essage
E-xcellently
E-mploys
B-irthday
A-s
L-ove
I-s
N-icely
O-ffered
Topic: Birthday of Imee C. Balino (November 13)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Letting Go
By David J Walker
Somewhere in the distance
Angry hounds with my scent
Are baying at words I cannot
Take back
My nerves fray in the fires
Of things I regret
Words that were never meant
as actions
Yet hurt as if a thrown fist
Words I cannot entirely forget
And have not been forgiven
Nor forgotten
I have often offered
my sins to Jesus
and yet cannot quite
let them go
Is it me or He who is the
More skeptical in the
Transaction
Sleep, once natural anywhere
Is now an expensive cross
That I publicly bare
Searching for the right bed
Knowing that the peace I seek
Will only find comfort
within the confines of my head
Love divine, sovereign in directive
Compassion leads from carnal perspective.
Reaching-out midst life-building goal
Transforming toward faithful service-pole.
Indeed sublime, working for forgiveness gain
Sanctifying heart, suffering with guilt-gripped pain.
Reproving sweetness in the guise of care
Uplifting through blessings to share.
Blissful around God’s secured fellowship*
I thank Him for His offered eternal relationship.
*1Corinthians 1:9 God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
July 19, 2020
Honorable Mention, "STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (11)any theme any form" Poetry Contest; Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/19/2020.
G-od
U-ses
I-mmeasurable
L-ove
L-etting
E-veryone's
R-ighteous
M-ind
O-pen
O-nce
S-alvation
I-s
O-ffered
Topic: Birthday of Bro. Guillermo Osio, Jr (July 24)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
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