Pressure came knocking at the door,
And slowly, love began to fade;
The laughter heard there once before
Was buried underneath the weight.
Two hearts that once would softly meet,
Now speak in whispers, cold and brief;
The days are filled with endless needs,
And nights have little room for dreams.
Where pressure grows, pleasure retreats,
Romance becomes a distant song;
A tired heart has little strength
To give the tenderness it longs.
Love needs more than roofs and bread,
More than bills that must be paid;
It needs a smile, a gentle touch,
A little time that won't be traded.
So ease the burden, hold your own,
Remember why you chose to stay;
For when two hearts make room for love,
Even weary souls can find their way.
Pressure and pleasure cannot coexist;
Where peace returns, love finds its bliss.
Patient is the seductive moon,
Veiled in a black gossamer veil,
Clouds grip the night
Evoking an emotional imagination.
Singing in silence, kindred stars
Light up in an impressionist dance
In the infinite serene heavens.
The stage under its feet,
A reflection of itself.
Untidy, cold, resonant, sonorous sounds
Of the sea and briny air roll inland.
Calm waves silently creep,
Leaving a slight silvery spume
Over the golden-tanned sand,
Then slowly drawing a breath,
Taking it back into its dark,
Moonlit glow, turquoise depth.
The seductive moon smiles
In the pleasure it gives.
Where’s the gravy train I rode
In those days of waggy tails
With no thoughts of getting old
And no precious aim to chase
I can’t recognize the wreck
Whose each morning’s waking up
Counts as luckiest comeback
But it’s me with coffee cup
Course I had that vague idea
What those better days acquire
Mary Hopkin puts it clear
There’s no point to join the choir
Days of pleasure, wine and smoke
Days of roses, lovers lanes
All has gone beyond the joke
Though the joker still remains.
nine of
cupside gold-
en dairies married
silken maid-
ens down to
squeezing milk men pleas-
ing through the
only
partly
wide and open castle doors
If it wasn't for pain we'd never know pleasure
If it wasn't for separation we wouldn't appreciate time together
If it wasn't for deception we would not value the truth
If it wasn't for misery happiness would mean nothing to you
If it wasn't for misery,we wouldn't appreciate joy
If it wasn't for hatred love would never be a choice
If it wasn't for differences how could you ever be admired
So ask yourself is perfection what you truly desired
Braise
Mysterious loses
Pleasing, tempting, teasing
Planting, affluents blue gold
Treasure
A holiday paradise
where the sea creates a surreal backdrop
Flooded with emerald light
The reflection makes the glow shine
This must be Mother Nature's greatest hits
Maybe a fairy tale "Robinson Crusoes luxurious life"
Breathtaking, a most unforgettable spot
to being in the right place, at the right moment
Waking pigment from deep slumber,
Accidents by chance do happen:
Tableaus waiting to suddenly appear,
Eager brushstrokes like a wand revealing hues,
Random musing concept to concrete.
Cathartic childlike pleasure of creating,
Optimizing thoughts outside the box.
Leisure becomes a fun experience
Of captivating imaginings out of thin air,
Unleashing wild and latent dreams:
Reverie’s gateway to our world.
Morning imagery born of night’s celestial visions,
Artistic inclinations smooth the way.
Graceful graphics give voice to our dreams
Intensely improvising when words do not suffice,
Celebrating expression in all its lavish ways.
AP: 2nd place 2026
Resting on the edge of the raging sea,
He comes to me reaching past the fear,
Just to seek the passion I hide,
Strong with the force of nature in his hands,
Comes the release of a thousand lifetimes,
Stifling my raw emotion with just the touch of his hand,
Resisting him seems to be useless for his passion
Tears into my soul,
Like the angry sea crashing upon the seashore,
As i lay awaiting his return,
The gentleness of his touch takes my spirit
For a sweet ride,
Heavenly lifting me into realms unknown,
Swiftly I hunger for his kiss and his tender embrace,
Endlessly searching his eyes for compassion,
Only to find the innocence of his young soul,
Gently believeing love could conquerer all,
Still cautiously taking in every ounce of my passion,
With each breath escaping from his tender lips,
Draws my senses into the abyss of surging pleasure,
My secret desire come to me quickly and relieve this
undying hunger to have every part of you with me....
My angel takes away my pain
And gives to me the love I treasure;
My angel comes to me like rain
And gives to me delight and pleasure;
My angel sprinkles me with stars
And then illumines me with sunshine;
To Venus, Jupiter and Mars
We fly and carry in our passion;
My angel lends a helping hand
And gives the solace to the needy;
My angel looks to sea and land
And in them all creation heeds - and
When we are talking, all is right
And then we are birds of a feather -
In day, in twilight and the night
Me and my angel soar together.
we sit inside a room of light
not bright, but just enough tonight
to keep the air from sleep
no story tries to take its place
no need to hurry or erase
what silence wants to keep
outside, the city moves away
a long repeated kind of day
that never learns to stay
inside, a glass, a hand, a breath
a small defiance against death
that does not need to mend
pleasure is not a final word
it is the pause where nothing’s heard
and still we are unseen
it does not rise, it does not fall
it does not ask for more at all
it simply stays a while
and when it leaves, it leaves no trace
no sign, no proof along the way
only a quiet smile
“Illusory Pleasure“
By Da’Swaun Boyd
The man is of the world, and so are his desires.
Living a life of pleasure and heading straight for the fire
You can only believe him as much as a liar
Intrigued by others, while ignoring his own
Without the ones he loves, his house is no longer a home.
The memories were erased, and he was stuck living all alone.
Blinded by money, with a heart full of rage
Heart is misguided and hard to gauge.
The one he needs for her, his heart still yearns.
Hope he turns his life around before he ends up with burns.
Much is based on pleasure.
Sensory sensations: sight, sound, smell, touch, taste –
a treasure.
I would acquire.
Truth: unique, private, favor-based.
desire.
Divine.
Velvet-encased.
Mine.
Much is based on pleasure.
Truth: unique, private, favor-based.
Mine.
Cokesation
Bite full of vibrations
as the nectar fills my tongue with juices that soak
hydration.
smile on my lips
as I wiped my lips on my cloak
and hips.
summer’s day,
I sit on oak
… May
of different sensations
biting peach and sipping on Coke –
tion.
Deep pulse starts to rise high
As a burning fever mounts and spirit ascends
To the sky
Dim turns the light
Each breath, a soft sweet song, extends
The night
Senses
Bloom and transcends
Joy
Deep pulse starts to rise high
Each breath, a soft sweet song, extends
Joy.
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