SKEPTICAL THOUGHTS UNDERMINE VERBAL WARMTH
as offered aloud from masculine parted lips.
When brain doubts unexpectedly burst forth,
ensure same feminine brain shreds them to strips.
MOONLIT NIGHTS OBSERVE POTENTIALLY QUED
magic often downward fracture and fall apart
when a man’s truth isn’t evidentially clued
to a willing and attentive sweetheart.
AMPLE BAFFLED COUPLES DECLINE EMBRACE
if one is not genuinely enthused.
When qualms clearly show on one’s face,
the other’s face soon appears confused.
ENTICING, FOXY GALS HARKEN INTEREST
and good-looking men embolden heartbeats
so that when neither is indifferent
romance may take a stroll down High Street.
AI: panacea or pain? Contest //Sponsored by: Simon Rogerson
Contest Judged: 9/9/2025 6:59:00 AM
( Ist Place )
Written: August 10, 2025
A whisper born of code and light,
vast potential, a promising sight--
yet twilight sprawl where circuits reign.
Panacea — or pulse of pain?
We hold the key, the spark, the fear,
to pave the way — far and near.
every day has potential
to be a disappointment
or a celebration
I surround myself with people
who know how to celebrate
cautiously avoiding those who resolve
to always be disappointed
Swirling words from an infinite field,
Caught and thought in a moment of time.
Knowing not their future or their yield,
Their full potential may be sublime.
Allow yourself a time to reflect,
Give your thoughts the freedom to expand.
It won’t take long for them to connect,
Piece them together the best that you can.
For simple thoughts to be understood,
Whether written are spoken be clear.
Used correctly, they’ll be more than good,
They’ll be easy to read or to hear.
Allow your thoughts to simmer and stew,
Make your message be truly unique.
Add some depth for those special few,
Who hear more than just the words you speak.
Most of your words the crowd will not hear,
Or even remember in the end.
But those who listen, they will endear,
Mature thoughts on which they can depend.
my potential, an entity I've put on a pedestal
I spend my days climbing her ridiculously high ladder with gift-wrapped handmade blades; only leaving when her skin is ripped & her dreams for me fade, little by little
The cruelty of my actions is but merely protection from rejection
I need her to let me go,but she craves; she lusts over the idea of intertwining our abilities, without my blades of insecurity
"What if this is all that I am?" a question too hard to answer, even for her
Admittedly, there are times, when I allow her powers to flow through me, but I almost always end up killing her
Like a dead, dried flower placed in water; her trust in me is actually just suicide disguised as hope.
mind's magnificent might may move mountains
©bfa060125
We lie in our class,
Not really intrigued or puzzled,
By the mundane subjects that keep us muddled.
Some may admire the beauty that surrounds us;
Of the trees swaying in the winds,
Of the cherry blossoms that drop,
In the never-failing cold wind.
The light which comes through our open doors,
The light, not brighter than the people we have in store.
We all are specimens alike,
But, behind our mask of mischief lies,
A little drop or maybe a bead,
Filled with sincerity and virtue so sweet.
The little drop that burns and shines,
In all our hearts it lies.
We are not mindless wanderers,
We are not without destination;
Some folks can’t understand,
The intensity of our situation.
We have a goal,
An aim to be great,
But some of us haven’t uncovered our little drop,
The drop that can seal our fate.
The teachers say we’re a nuisance,
How we trouble their conscience;
But how they will miss us,
Miss our shenanigans;
How we will miss each other when we leave,
To the calling of our little bead.
Sun rises in all its glory
breaking through my window
announcing with great fanfare
the start of a new day
A fresh new start
full of potential
choices to make
and paths to take
A day unlike all others
we mustn't take for granted
for days are numbered days are finite
~ let's make this one unforgettable
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on March 22, 2025 to contest YOUR CHOICE D sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 10TH
I believe this space must be appreciated
Blank, white, plain to see
Why are we so quick to cover up
That which is boundlessly free
Look at this space between the frame
Question, wonder, and consider
Here is a blank field, free for the taking
With potential untapped, as it were
But perhaps something sad should be noted
This canvas gets only one experience
Endless possibilities, limited to one
Only one potential can be in existence
But if we refuse and never color in the white
Then the canvas can continue to dream
But never live any true reality
Purity is a dilemma it does seem
Do we remove its potential and give it a path
Or do we keep the possibilities open and allow it to imagine
How do we choose such a powerful choice
Both options seem like a terrible sin
So make your choice (I steadfastly refuse)
This space is like a child who does need grow
So consider your own past and wonder which is worth it
Because perhaps to choose we should be a little more slow
A morning walk, amidst the trees, beneath a sky of grey.
The sound of crisp from frozen ground breaks silence in the air.
I love the feeling that I get on such a winter day,
where light through all the empty branches somehow takes me there.
It makes me dream of times in spring where newness comes again.
Can’t help envisioning the grey transforming into green.
But then it never ceases there, I picture until when
the trees before me transform til they’re so inspiring.
I see them as they ought to be, in worlds of better fortune.
I see them as they want to be, but seldom are they here,
where every branch is color filled, it’s truly mesmerizing.
It makes me both happy and sad as I am standing there.
This world we’re in. The lives we lead, they follow this same story.
So often they are so much less than what they’re meant to be.
‘Twould only take a bit of Heaven to change them to glory,
but all too often we’re stuck in… the grey of winter trees.
A spark within us, a flame that burns so bright
Guiding us forward, through life's darkest night
The voice whispers secrets, of a greatness yet unknown
A declaration that stirs the soul, and awakens us to our throne.
You, too, possess this greatness, a treasure yet untold
A light that shines within, a story yet to be unfold
Don't let the shadows of doubt, or fears that would ensnare
Hold you back from soaring, on the winds of hope and faith that's there.
Breathe in the essence of resilience, and let your heart be bold
Learn to rise above, to conquer and never grow cold
Sip from the cup of hope, and let its sweetness revive
And when the storms of fear assail, let courage be your shield and guide.
Erase the word "impossible" from the canvas of your mind
And paint instead a masterpiece, of "I can," "I will," and "I am divine"
You are great, and greatness awaits, just beyond the horizon's bend
So rise, dear one, and claim your birthright, your greatness that will never end.
I could compare it to being in a cardboard box,
to be a boat that has to remain on the docks,
to be a seed that will never see the sun,
to have never kept going when someone said to be done.
Not even knowing what was outside,
not even knowing how it feels to ride the tide,
not even knowing how tall you could have grown,
not even knowing the minds that you could have blown.
If only you knew that you had the capability,
if only you knew that there was a possibility,
if only you knew your talent in the making,
if only you knew of the opportunities that you weren’t taking.
Then maybe, just maybe, your potential would become reality.
There is always that person
Who is the most important after parents.
The one who thought us everything
And made us who we are now.
The art of being a teacher
Is like eternity.
The endless joy of progressions,
Is the ecstasy of both.
They are the God's
Who transforms us into the best one's.
Makes us prove ourselves.
And be proud of oneself's.
For me, it's my master.
The one who made me realize who I am
And what my potential is.
The one who thought me my interest
And made me the best in it.
The happiness I get out of it
Is another level of exuberance.
I like my hobby, more like passion,
It gives life to me.
Thank all the teachers
Who helps you through your works.
They are wonderful for who they are.
Because learning is as important as oxygen.
The child, a budding blossom
with potentials yet unfold
Never out of sight
like a rare gemstone
giving a whisper of hope
With laughter and innocence
She explores freedom
In the midst of little souls
with innocent minds exploring
the world of friendship
Her beauty glowed
like the lilies in it's full bloom
Engrossed in the joy
playing out in the rain,
Every drop running
through her flesh,
waves of air through
every strands of her hair
She feels more alive than ever
With each passing moment
Her bloom unfolds
A tiny seed, within a girl's heart,
Holds the potential, to make a start.
A seed of knowledge, waiting to grow,
To blossom bright, and let it show.
With nurture, care, and a guiding hand,
The seed will thrive, in this new land.
Education's sun, a gentle ray,
Will help the seed, to bloom one day.
A girl, with potential, yet unseen,
Can change the world, if she is keen.
Nurture the seed, with love and grace,
And watch her rise, to find her place.
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