September is busting out all over,
leaves with pretty colors,
fill the cool air.
A new sweater for the cool morning air,
will keep me warm as I pick up pretty leaves over and over.
I love the red and orange colors.
Birds of many colors,
are singing as they are flying through the air,
they keep going to the bird feeder many times over.
September will be over with new colors to fill the winter's air.
In its special serpentine style too deep to fathom
while submersed beneath I was surprised to see
the world's second most venomous reptile
a striped Dubois' sea snake swim by me
when forewarned of dangers quirky lurking in the deep
altho' arriving suitably attired with fins mask and snorkel
it was sufficient to almost scare me out of my diving skin
so severe as to make my heart skip flip or turn turtle
but being bold brave of heart and fleet of flippered-foot
swiftly did I surely doggy-paddle safely away
tho' no harm was done to me a close call or so it seemed to be
which I survived to recount alive here on this another day
Altho' his feelings
he chose to suppress,
human and Vulcan,
yet, so as to process,
when overwhelmed,
in need of time apart,
and not upset
the apple cart,
to get things off his chest,
emotions, thoughts
and personal challenges,
of all kinds and several sorts,
on board the starship Enterprise,
the First Officer they'd have to replace,
when Spock told Captain Kirk,
'I need my space!'
In grand lehengas, women gather beneath the waiting sky,
Thaali in hand, their hearts filled with faith and love.
Their voices rise together in melodious bhajans,
A chorus of prayers carried softly into the night.
The day has passed in fasting, patience and devotion,
Now every eye searches for the moon behind the clouds.
For the moon is the long-awaited blessing of the night,
The silver signal that turns fasting into feasting.
Slowly, the clouds drift, hiding and revealing its glow,
Testing the patience of women dressed in festive splendour.
Then, little by little, a white ball of light appears,
A milky diamond glittering in the dark sky.
The thaalis shimmer, the prayers grow softer,
And love waits for the moment of breaking the fast.
A little water, lovingly offered by the husband's hands,
Becomes a sip of affection, faith and togetherness.
Gifts follow, smiles bloom, and prayers turn into gratitude,
For a husband's long life and a marriage filled with love.
Moon, come out soon—shower us with your pure light,
And bless our married lives with bliss, love and everlasting light.
Contest: THE SIMPLE POETRY
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Date: September 4th 2026
A warning signals
at the daylights dim.
An inconspicuous drop or two
tap my cheek -
An impulsively deep inhalation
as I glare at the clouds.
A more rhythmically consistent
offering of droplets touch down!
More excitable water follows
trampolining on the ground.
Puddles beat like drums
in a heavy rock band.
Soggy wet through
where I stand...
The brolly blew the wrong way out.
My waterproofs a flapper.
I grumble a sigh and shrug
at my failure to stay dry
as I'm caught out in the rain.
a worm peeks out
from underground
perceives
rain-soaked grass
(thinks), ‘Come out?’
~ I’m not an asp
scenic farm view
cows and horses out to graze
barn and silo stand
World Running out of Water
The whole world
Seems to be
Getting hotter
And drier
And everywhere we go
Water supplies are stretched
To the breaking point
As the world
Faces a water shortage
Many big cities
Are running out of water
Farmers are desperate
And AI data centers
Are becoming huge
Water hogs
Making the situation
Even more precarious
And dire
I step on the road once again.
The moment I walk,
The music of the past,
The twisted black hole
Swallows me whole,
I step on the road once again.
The moment I walk,
The music of the past,
The twisted black hole
Now spits me back out.
Neither the past nor the present,
I am walking this very moment.
That wall, friend, we leapt
Time's, fainter to stray
Naughtiest children bragged of!
Home; furthest away!
"Nothing of danger
Its hair-raising threat
But is, if stealthy and slow
With full consent met."
A culture is sustained by its traditions
And its quality is known by the fruits
Of those traditions.
We live in a time of change
When tradition is challenged and discarded
Simply for being traditional.
We don’t know what will replace it
We just want “hope and change”
With blind faith it’ll be better.
But that’s not the way civilizations are built
That is how they are destroyed.
When the bottom falls out
Morals are abandoned
Values are reversed
The baby is thrown out
And the old dirty bathwater consumed
As if nectar.
Then drunk on delusion
The revelers cry
When in the morning
The large, shiny Trojan Horse is empty
And it’s clear their life will never be the same.
(8/30/26)
Spent spirits bend; grasping grips slip.
Bent backs bear what numb nails can never mend.
Frail fingers fail; bent bones break.
Weary wrists wrench as tired tendons twist.
Cold claws clutch sore shoulders.
Rust rasps hard; battered palms pull back.
Hammered hands hang; tired tools fall still.
his mockery was vermin that the smuggler forcibly humming sharksucker
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 24–30, 2026)
Cars squealing,
Trees shivering,
Humans zooming across town,
Probably back to that ‘small but cozy…’ apartment in the basement of an LA complex.
Thing is..
When’s recess?
When can I go home?
And why do I never feel at home?
Where actually is home?
Perhaps we’re all searching for home.
Incomplete are the thoughts of my head like this
Can't say but can't express like this
Dots connect to make some pattern
Am I too naive to make it exist like this
Maybe they mean something to me
Or maybe I felt like this
How did people of my life
Became dots to connect like this
With the meaning of punctuation to show things end
When did these dots connect to make a string like this
I assume it all to be falsely mistaken
Never thought I would make a pattern asymmetrical like this
I sometimes try to bring the dots close to see constellations
They stand so far for the moon's light to shimmer like this
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