Don't look at things now,
But look up the things after
The process and end.
My process is like dots.
Not stars, just nothing dots.
Rearranging.
Tangled netting and dragonfly parts.
Whatever I can grab and throw in the shopping cart.
That sinks through the tile.
I thought things were solid for once.
Then the holes got torn up.
And the dragonfly eyes too.
Disintegrated.
In such a poem which is made of sentences and more.
My process is like dots.
Spiky, horned dots.
Maybe a few blobs and globs enticing.
The end of a poem isn’t scary.
Or strange.
It's thirsty, but the end is that drink.
My process.
Like a pen that doesn’t worry about anything.
Nothing dots and dragonfly parts.
Wheeling me away.
Like they did five years ago.
The ultimate process is living life.
We can learn everything through love and strife.
It’s not just the content that fills each day,
Living in the moment teaches the way.
Find your true self and learn secrets untold,
Inside is wisdom and truth to behold.
Overcoming struggles helps us to grow.
Learning to love helps us go with the flow.
Created uniquely one of each kind,
How we’re created, not known to man’s mind.
Likely created from pure intellect,
Known only through perfection, I suspect.
A perfect design became creation,
Without a hint of an explanation.
Do not stare in unbelief
Or marvel at the moment of a miracle
Rather stand in complete relief
That energy has shown itself completely
In metamorphic perfection
Metamorphic elements in pure perfection
Evolve and become the seeds
The next stage of evolution
Be not in a state of amazement
But content in each moment of the process
There is strength in acknowledging a passion
Something the world fights against
Knowing God puts intent into His creation
There becomes a complication
Spiritual warfare often challenges
The closer we get to finding answers
"I feel like this is my calling."
Questions of what causes the stalling
Prayer warriors with battlefields in closets
God's intent never fails; we must involve Him
Teach them how to discern and learn,
Don’t leave them helpless to crash and burn.
Teaching them just content, they learn it your way.
Teach them the process of learning today,
You give them a lifetime of learning every day.
hovering in limbo
ideas strewn about
lacking sense or reason
images suspended in mid air
notions and impressions
floating and colliding
vague feelings in the raw
idly drifting meet their match
simmering a stance
before long ...
thoughts are forming notions
interpreting and framing
and a plan's laid out for action
AP: 3rd place 2025
There he sits
In a cell of choice
Paying the price
For shattered voice
She stands on a stage
Belting out words of hope
Inside, cowering in a corner
With a frayed rope
They hold their signs
Gather in crowds
Shouting powerless views
To attempt a break down
...of numbers
Isolated in countries
Without a proper home
Everyone comes in
But leaves them, alone
Humanity straddles the knife
Begging for a peaceful life
Finding division and descension
While prophesying ascension
Those who follow LOVE
Have no beginning or end
Flowing through process
Even when...
again and again
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-17-2025
haiku : manifestation process
heart whispers symbols
mindful make intentions, plans ~
action complete, sleep
____________
hiku
he ART
w h i s p e
R
s
s M O S
y b L
MIND
ful
make
I. N. T. E. N. T. I. O. Ns
PLANS ~
ACTION
Complete
zzzzzz
________________________
I sit and I wait
Wait for your return
Have I done enough
My tummy starts to turn
I don’t know when it will happen
or why I want to stay
but here is all I’ve wanted, since I’ve been away.
I look for my home, but home is in the past.
Now everything is broken,gone and I’m the last.
I don’t know what I want, where I’m meant to be
What I want from life, young me I am truly sorry.
I’m so desperate to find my world but strictly clinging on
To toxic relationships that I know have gone all wrong
But the past is what I want, where I once felt me
A decade on and I just cannot feel free
I’ll continue the cycle until I’m unstuck and happy
I know why I go back, to feel truly loved
Controlled, told what to do, just for that one hug
That feeling of safety when I was once a child
Where waking up and living life, was all and enough
"Don't drown in pain, allow true love for self surf the trauma!"
I still myself in the hallowed dream of light and love.
In the significant withdrawal of time, holding my breath
I breathe in the silence, stillness and sound.
I silently dwell in the rapturous becoming
Of the unhindered, unbridled emotions---
Holding myself in the chilling sphere of fear.
In the gnawing acoustics of survival----
Allowing every ounce of stillness measure
Every inch of my depth---
I make my way towards freedom and glory
Through the spirit of surrender to benevolent Time.
Life is a process
There is no eternal life
No youth that is not old
There is nothing to cling to
A hundred years from now
Without you without me
We struggle for life
We can't take away
A grass and a tree
We cling to life
Can't take away
A trace of vanity love
Life is short
We don't have time to argue
No time to be sad
There is no time to worry
We only have time to love and enjoy.
There is an unwritten process in the book of flatulence
For when it is passed
Firstly, if there is a dog in the room
Naturally, it was the dog who did that blast
Next in line are children
When an awful smell wafts by
Of course it's one of the little angels
Which they always and forever deny
Lastly it is the men
Who simply bear no shame
When in the company of women
Without question they are to blame
As for us delicate creatures called ladies
We would never blow a foul trumpet tune
If by the slightest chance it ever came to fruition
It would be the lovely aroma of sweet perfume
To call you a pansy insults the flower.
It seems you cried for nearly an hour;
your mother called to say she’d lost.
So ‘space to process’ at a cost
of fifty six thousand for the year
to cancel class and sip craft beer…
‘Buck up’ is what my mum would say,
but then of course she’d never pay
so I could breakfast with the dean
and wring my hands about well-being.
I guess I’m old; my youth is gone.
I’d likely say, Get off my lawn!
But hun, you life is going to hurt
when you discover things like dirt
and sweat and toil and grit and grime.
I hope that in some future time,
you’ll look back on Trump’s second win,
say, Man, I was a pansy then.
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