As the clouds part the sky
It makes me think of a time
How thing’s aren’t like they are now
When time didn’t stop on a dime
Still the days go on by
Just like they always do
I wish I was able to unsee the things i can’t undo
Almost everywhere we pass
We see ungodly things
The devil’s surely stronger
Than what some people believe
Some won’t quit doing drugs
Let alone stop taking a drink
So, wake up with a full heart
You should count your blessings twice
The devil’s playground is open
The gates are spread wide
Oh, how I wish this was different times
A puddle was his playground.
Tiny boat floating to a faraway land.
Grounds for a fertile imagination.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Different shapes, different hues,
Different talents, different views,
On the playground side by side,
Every creature filled with pride.
The monkey swung from tree to tree,
“Fish, come climb, and race with me!”
The fish looked up, began to cry,
“I cannot climb, I cannot try.”
The monkey laughed, the crowd did too,
“See, I’m the winner, stronger than you!”
But Rabbit stepped with gentle grace,
“Strength is not the same in every race.”
“Monkey, you’ve won on climbing high,
But now let’s see if you can fly
Or swim as fast as Fish can go,
Into the water, let’s make it so!”
The crowd all cheered, “It’s only fair,
Monkey, swim if you dare!”
The monkey froze, the fish was gone,
Already racing, already won.
The cheers rang loud, the lesson clear,
Respect each gift, hold each dear.
For every creature, great or small,
Has their strength and that is all.
So hear this truth, let it ignite,
Diversity is power, not a fight.
You cannot judge, you cannot compare,
Each soul shines in their own repair.
Together we rise, together we play,
Different, yet equal that’s the way.
The world is a playground.
Using animal reasoning that's sound,
find the bullies as you must,
and the people you can trust,
and you can stick around.
In a moment it makes an epoch end
And brings it back from there-- what sleight of hand!
This world it seems a playground be of mind,
This is what on thinking deep do I find.
_________________________________
Sanskrit Translation | 31.01.2026 | mind, mischief, playground, quatrain
Note: Some stanzas called shlokas in Sanskrit are quatrains. Dwelling on mind again, this verse (from Mahaa Upanishad) says that this world is a playground of mind. Its fleeting nature may make a moment look like an epoch. In a moment it can bring you back from it. The transliteration is as under:
Kalpam kshanee karoti antah,
kshanam nayati kalpataam |
Manah vilaasa samsaara,
iti me nishitaa matih || Mahaa Upanishad ||
A whittle of doubt
Pushes rain off the playground -
Gale wins the shuffle.
It is the worst thing when a child dies
Years of agony and tears
A feeling of emptiness
And the disappearance of hope
You know that your child misses you
They see you in their dreams
And you see them in yours
But for every child who leaves us
They have a special place given by God
A Heaven where children are happy
With newly made friends around them
You know they are running around
Smiling, laughing, and playing
As they wait for their mommy and daddy
And when that day comes
Everything will again be perfect
Just the way it was before
"Some places are pitch black"
Deserted by other children
The darkened playroom confronts The Kid
"I must be supervised"
By which he means
Protected from the powers of darkness
The would-be supervisor
In turn is confronted
With tight tunnels and tiny staircases
And an accumulated coating
Of kiddy grime
Which doesn't bother the Kid.
He is unamused by pulling of scary faces
From within the labyrinth's cramped atrium
But instead requires illumination for his explorings
From a torch he has handy.
Disappointed that he must proceed alone
For reasons of size and stature
Exhorting "Try! Try!"
Yet he goes bravely forward.
Crawling through intestinal convolutions
Lit up as much as possible by the torchlight
Up into the high reaches of the system
Sliding finally down a long tube and out
Through a slippery exit passage
This is a prototype
Of a non-living carnivore
With which we can peacefully coexist
Relatively unscathed
WET PLAYGROUND
The falling rain stopped.
Happy worms came up to play:
Hungry birds came down to join:-
For Sir Brian Strand's 1402 Poetry Contest
7 August 2025
\o o/ up and down we go,
\___________/
|||||
____|||||____ laughing through the air like birds ~
/ \
/ \
__/_________________\__ weightless afternoon.
/ \
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today, my mind is a playground of thoughts.
If one thought exhausts another,
maybe they would cease to exist—
but today, they multiply.
Today, my thoughts have become a burden.
In the chaos of my mind,
I search for new literature,
new words to anchor my restless soul.
I am a writer.
I don’t need food to nourish me,
nor shelter to shield me,
nor breath to survive.
All I need is a copy that never tires,
and a pen that dances on the page.
I am a writer.
I draw shapes from words,
pour ink like a river that never runs dry.
I write with curled fingers and a wet pen,
as if the very act of creation is my lifeblood.
When life feels colorless,
I splash color onto the canvas of each moment.
I walk with the weight of my thoughts,
each step an echo of the writer’s burden.
Today, my thoughts weigh heavy.
But in their pressure,
I continue to search for new literature,
for a voice that might quiet the storm.
In Playground of Imagination
Us being kids with no boundaries
Just feeling the warmth
Caused by sun for us
Thanking god for his creation
For bearing our clowneries
With guts to face any storms
Gaining anything with our fuss.
Not caring about duration
Stop being in mouseries
Standing together in all forms
Solving every problem of truss.
In the playground of imagination,
She converses with the elements,
They obey her commands,
The sun opens a door for her,
And she steps into a world filled with daylight and mystery.
Every house glows with a distinct light,
And the glory of the sun banishes sickness and disease.
In the playground of imagination,
The moon journeys alongside her,
And the stars surround her,
Guiding her through the deepest night.
They lead her to the hidden and golden chamber,
Where the symphony of the stars unveils
Treasures of unmatched inspiration.
In the playground of imagination,
She travels to Wonderland,
A garden of pristine beauty,
Butterflies dance around her,
And flowers release their exotic fragrances.
Stars fall like flakes from the sky,
And she transforms into a princess,
Accompanied by her maiden fairies,
With the prince standing ahead.
Come with me to my favorite place
in playground of imagination.
It’s such a beautiful happy space
to experience any sensation.
Rainbows above you burst in the sky.
Your thoughts and feelings have colors, you see
and here your muse will never run dry
because from the real world you flee.
Metaphors on monkey bars swing.
Hyperbole hangs from them too.
Be like a bird, and let your thoughts sing.
Yes, similes are sure to tag you.
Swing on the swing set and let your words play.
On the merry-go-round take a spin.
You can go just about any which way
if playground of imagination you’re in.
On the jungle gym climb, and let your mind slide
like a child’s, but once on the ground,
get right back up. Let sound be your guide.
Alliteration is usually around.
On the see-saw you can collaborate.
You can run free or play here with rhyme.
Fancy rules. She commands you create.
No limits are set. Just have a good time!
Hiding inside a box
While my rivers run wild
Gardens dance to my tunes
Songs sung in a voiceless mode
Eyes sparkle with shiny stars
Poems bleed on empty pages
Mundane structures matter not
Love, free, extols of itself
Suffering, once heavy, gets shed off
And a thousand moons illuminate the nights
Hiding inside a box
While my rivers run wild
Evergreen forests
Fairies' delight
Rainbows sparkle with gurgling laughter
Once humans
A God and a Goddess lose themselves in each other
Finding in each other,
Oceans yearning to be explored
Creatures seeking to be discovered
Hiding inside a box
A whole world thrives
Imagination plays games known to no one else
For Contest Pick-A-Title, Vol 50
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Written on 12 April 2025
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