When hues of grey in disarray
Splash and spray hefty shades astray,
Diffuse the sun ray of the day,
Divert happy pursuits away…
One can’t but ponder in dismay -
Is a dark destiny at play?!
Hey, shades of grey aren’t long to stay,
The light palettes of bright outweigh.
Might sound like a passé cliche,
But hope dies last - or so they say.
The deep fault of the human race
is that there are no individuals any more.
~ Søren Kierkegaard
Pixels in the machine it seems
Articulating world schemes, twirled
Reality for those addicted to a screen,
Too timid into be seen in between ~
Inventions of mad men with intentions of perverting
Common sense, it’s so passé
Loving everything but Roget’s suggestions~
Even poems must have an ending!
Menageries of words saying nothing, galleries of pixel
Animations replacing animates en masse
Nothing leftover for the poor,
who don’t exist except
in old picture books.
Man wanting to hold
On, craves to climb next ladder
But can’t leave the old
Ere climbing next one
And bids for life’s grave blunder
Time and times again,
Forgetting alas
That there’s no way to heaven
Till the past is passé.
_________________________
Senryu | 21.12.2025 | ladder, men, past, world
Note: This is what’s happening in today’s materialistic world fed with the diet of grab, grab and give not the ladder to others wanting to climb. Yet, till the past is passé, there is no future.
The island of Gili Meno
is a best-kept secret, they say.
Where all the fashionistas go;
until it becomes a tad passé.
I read it in a glossy mag
while waiting for my root canal;
with where to go to see a stag;
the secret life of Marc Chagall.
Some other best-kept secrets were;
where you can buy THAT wedding dress,
or should you tip your dad’s chauffeur?
And are there monsters in Loch Ness?
I found an ‘unknown Cotswold pub’
the secret to a perfect pie’
a secret door to a nightclub’
and that it’s cool to grow bonsai.
That Lady X once dated HIM;
that he collects his navel fluff;
quite why that singer’s rather slim
(and she was photo’d in the buff!)
A best-kept-secret hideaway,
the booking details right below.
Where is the best all-day buffet,
in France they call their water eau.
Best-kept secrets are all around.
Shush, don’t let everybody know
exactly where it was you found
how to book that French chateau.
Artificial Intelligence has taken over
Human intelligence is sadly obsolete and passé
~ Jobs will soon be non-existent!
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
This is the modern age
And Life is so passé
That death is what is left, clearly Left,
And so needing to be celebrated
In every child killed, foe assassinated
And human made infertile
In the depths of their confusion and delusion.
What is there that death can hope to conquer?
Not happiness, because even the deadly
Are often happy - celebrating death,
But joy, which is a fulfillment
In something that transcends death,
And the simplest word for that is
Life.
(10/6/25)
Among the virtues, one stands tall,
God exalts it above them all.
Those who profess to walk with God,
But lacks this trait, He deems a fraud.
When Christ upon a cross was hung,
heaven’s love song to man was sung.
God shared His heart; He made it bare,
revealed to us how much He cares.
Patience, perseverance, and hope,
when facing stress they help us cope.
Wisdom, fortitude, and courage
are valued traits in every age.
Humility, prudence, and faith
are traits that made the sages great.
Generosity and kindness
are traits of those who have God’s mind.
Compassion, respect, and justice
are worthy traits that foster trust.
Both temperance and self-control
are worthwhile traits to set as goals.
Assertiveness and diligence
are traits of those who high-posts fill.
Forgiveness is a trait of those
who truly God's forgiveness knows.
Both modesty and chastity
are traits that today seem passé,
yet, none among the noble traits,
the passage of time will outdate.
“God is love”, the Bible says,
and those who love, God homage pays.
So, Paul was right when he did state,
of the traits, “love is the greatest”
Seems plagiarism, isn’t a crime
Let’s copy lines we deem sublime
Perhaps from Shakespeare
Or wit Edward Lear
And poet’s deceased a long time
It's pointless alerting admin
Cos stealing work’s not deemed a sin
It’s really not fair
To steal works out there
It happened much to our chagrin
Known clichés which are now passé
Just copy them and post away
Then act with denial
Sit tight, even smile
And perhaps, get Poem of the Day!
relying on connect
vibrational
senses now passé
we ascend
The plumber is fixing a leak;
The pipe’s needing more than a tweak.
So for things to improve
He will have to remove
Some wood panels - I’m starting to freak.
Our house, built in ‘80, is old
And it’s paneled, which is, truth be told,
Now considered passé
But was cool in its day,
Though with changing it, I’ve not been sold.
So I’m listening from the next room
As he hammers and drills; I presume
That he knows what to do
For we haven’t a clue
If more leaks, in the future, will loom.
But voila! He just finished and yes,
I’m relieved of a lot of my stress,
For he came well-equipped
To replace what had dripped
And he didn’t leave much of a mess.
On the wall, all the panels survived
And the handyman, once he’s arrived,
Will nail down what is loose
And, as you can deduce,
Of my kitchen, I won’t be deprived.
These thoughts we frame and title
hang now from long defunct dendrites,
made branchless by the passé and pointless
now all strung-up upon threadbare strings.
Ones or twice the hanged are molested
by magpies seeking baubles for their nests,
yet most go unrobbed and remain as still as death,
or they twist in chill uncaring winds.
These thoughts shaped to mind-images,
collected together in empty galleries,
these works nibbled at; edited by blind mice
who then hurriedly hide from sight
the slipshod carpentry of our words.
These portraits of spent passions
may still be gazed upon
by the idle few, who beyond all reason
choose to elect a passing cloud
to admire or decry,
plucking out that feathery fragment,
as if it were the real feature
of the faceless and yet untold.
having outgrown lower mind crutch ~
thoughts are passé, we learn by touch
our muse comes from the universe ~
with no need for us to rehearse
the empty body urn
hums with potent power
in the flame of bliss we burn
enlivened spine a magnetic tower
scriptures are passé, we walk alone
navigating the vast vibrant void
light of Self comes into its own
delusion of mind destroyed
Just saw a fancy new jalopy go by
At least that's what we used to call 'em
Guess the ad men would surely cringe
Jalopy wouldn't cut it for them!
With all of today's sexy new cars
Jalopy is a blast from the past
The pace of life was much slower then
Less frantic and surely not as fast!
Any of you remember “rumble seats”?
Wonder why they called them so
1939 was the last time we saw them
Gone with those silent movie shows!
But the reality is there's no going back
We're stuck in this frantic new world
One which no longer has time for niceties
My mind's in a tizzy and a whirl!
I take solace in knowing in coming years
Today's technology and texting
Will be just as passé as the old jalopy
The future will be even more perplexing!
Just saw a fancy new jalopy go by
Traveled back to another time and place
Enjoyed the much simpler things in life
At a slower and less frantic pace!
when ego is not
then thought too is not
and with lower mind at rest
subterfuge and camouflage are passé
‘tis when essence of pristine presence emerges
finally ensouling form in active awareness
whilst ego now serving soul as is ought
opposites having dissolved we rise
breath by breath oozing love
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