A tree has fallen sadly, strongly pulling out all the roots that were mounted by the ground. Hitting straight downwards with no plans of being revived.
The fear of the fallen world has landed in the mud, creating a great series of unsettling feeling raining down in streams in-between the branches.
Leaving steady branches to raise the thorns by force with no luck the tree has no breath to blossom.
Leaves lingering in the air like lost plastics.
And then there was light behind where the tree was stalling, proclaiming its nature to never fall. Leaving it's fat presence known even by a topographic map. Landing a mark of eternity.
The sight of seeing behind became weary.
All though the tree took years to fall, but finally the air felt fresh enough to awaken what laid behind.
As days and weeks passed by, the disbelief of a fallen world became normal, a month passed and the soil consumed what was made to return on earth.
As it has been written what was made unholy will parish. The branches where weak shaken by the tree. But the lingering leaves landed better and became a bigger tree that took years to seed and sealed with the soil.
Ashleigh Ngoqo
"Listen closely," Rumple Stein
cackled, his yellow eyes
scanning the terrified faces
of the children huddled
around the campfire.
"A massive, hairy Bigfoot
stalks the foggy mountains,
sniffing the chilly night air for
a very specific scent."
"This towering beast
possesses a terrible, burning
fury against children who
refuse to do their homework."
"Because some kids don't do
their homework, the furious
monster swore to hunt down
every single lazy child."
"He tracks the scent of blank
pages and hidden schoolbooks
straight to your campground tents!"
"He wants to stomp slacker
kids to a pulp to punish them
for neglecting their daily education!"
He suddenly jumped to his
feet, throwing his hands high
as the wind howled through
the branches.
"And when he catches a lazy
student, "Rumple Stein roared,
"he crushes them with his giant
feet!"
The terrified children
immediately reached into
their backpacks, pulling out
their folders in absolute panic.
They frantically began
scribbling their spelling
words by the dim, flickering
light of the dying fire.
God’s breath unseen
moving life in secret
like the wind
fueling sun to heat
and earth to spin
brightening day
with colors
to sounds
of cheers
love energy
that birthing life
sustains it
spring to spring
carrying life
in womb
seed to seeds
moving mind
to build
a speeding wheel
or soar the sky
lifting up
on wings
love light
ignited by God
at birth
to be increased
or pulling out
the wire
from source of Light
without faith
in darkness
it dies
same light that guides
to lamp
on windowsill
paternal
joining segment
of life's reached
end
to the beginning
as it starts again
circling
young forever
Love eternal.
Fifth Place Winner: Brian Strand-1484 Premiere Contest-6/30/26
Tonight I am pulling out a box of pictures
Lookin’ at’em one by one
As I am sippin’ on my elixir
I reminisce about the day we begun
Tonight we’re having a get together
They’ll arrive one by one
We’ll be sippin’ on our favorite beverage
And we’ll be missin’ one
Tonight after saying goodbye to you
We’ll be missin’ you separately
Some will cry some will sigh, some will just do
We’ll be missin’ you desperately
As leaves blow over and time ages
And one by one the years go past
We all have grieved in different stages
And the pain has left at last
We’ll find you in a gallery of memories
Where we’ll think of you a lot
One by one each prayer released
Our most intimate thoughts with God
wild thrill of the chase
as surroundings catch fire
turns nation to waste
munition's flash we admire
situation growing dire
no promises made
more important things to do
the rules must be obeyed
propaganda skews the view
of who has done what to who
flames leaping higher
unseen future shall survive
in the muck and mire
best apologists will thrive
history gets out alive
courage tempers soul
heroes come and heroes go
some left less than whole
mayhem many know
the cost of fighting the foe
beyond the conflict
smooth narrator turning pages
wounds the news inflict
all wisdom of the sages
unread as battle rages
breeding arrogance
power supporting power
without variance
greed guilds the shining tower
dregs of truth, bitter and sour
so easy to start
war almost free to enter
then comes the hard part
invasion setting tenor
pulling out, the tormentor
on and on it goes
quick beginning with no end
branded by war's throes
bloody quagmire we descend
not just gods which we offend
As the Old Era ends,
I send a message to a friend,
Mending fences in your head,
Instead of rebelling and yelling,
Start selling yourself truth,
Your youth will create your future,
A suture to a wound,
Sonn to be opened,
I'm hoping you find this,
Witness all the goodness you see,
It came from me believing me,
Receiving the information I need,
Achieving my own form of mastery,
I'm a mystery to most,
A host to children of God,
Prodding deeper into the core,
Pulling out more,
Restoring your memory,
Embers of who you use to be,
Choosing to shine brightly,
Unsightly events may befall you,
View it through new eyes,
Don't react,
Interact,
Rise,
Into your true version,
A universal conversation,
The union of the nations,
Tuning to a high vibration,
Watch how the station changes,
As your world rearranges,
Exchanging the energy you give,
Living vicariously through you,
Giving the permission,
To continue the mission,
Love is in 1st position,
Above all opposition,
Transition into a new way of being,
Seeing the value everyone is bringing.
Awake me muse, for I need to commit,
To something, anything that will keep me fit
Before me sits, an unbuilt kit,
waiting for me to assemble it
With steady hands ready to work,
Unboxing, pulling out pieces,
for all they are worth
Parts and pieces dispersed here and there,
instructions interpreted as somewhat fair
Leave it to me, I’ll get it done,
better late than never, I told someone.
Time has come, to glue this to that,
prime, sand, then paint all that
To finish the task at one’s feet,
the process calls for it to repeat
Don’t call me a bad guy,
if I justify why you should electrify
You can paint or wallpaper any wall,
it doesn’t much matter to me at all
With all those lights still so dark,
plug in with “AC” to get a spark
Once we throw the thumb-wheel switch,
we behold all that glows,
hopefully, without a hitch.
I can proudly say to you this day,
this dolls house is ready and on its way
Ready for you to decorate
with folks gathering to participate
Thanking you in advance
for this build of mine
and approving of my timeline
At some point, you might say,
at his best, he was a gifted Miniaturist
At the monument to the Roman Emperor Hadrian near the Tower
There is no place to put flowers
But if they made a pedestal there
And wrote Put your flowers here
I’ve no doubt that
People would bring their flowers to the foot of the statue
Out of respect for law and order
What a good move that would be
And politically useful
Some rebel won't even notice
How he turns into one of the law-abiding citizens
He once laughed at
And now his rebellion is all about
Draining bottles and dancing to familiar music
When he is alone and feels free
Waving his hands in the air and pulling out a scary face.
I kneel by the ash heap of my country,
pulling out the charred bones of laws
once tender with purpose. A womb,
a book, a vote—each gutted clean
by men in ties who grin as they light
the match, who quote scripture
as forests burn and children cry
in cages built from policy.
My daughter will not inherit
a peace I once believed in.
She will patch what I could not protect—
clean air, clean water, a truth
without spin, a touch without price.
Her hands will be calloused,
her hope hard-earned.
It is not that we lost something.
It is that they took it and smiled.
self-harm was my only real friend since i was born
i didn’t know at first
who she was
but then i realized-when biting my fingernails started to hurt, but i didn’t stop.
then she changed-evolved
i didn’t know how to let my feelings out, so i turned to her
i still bit my nails, and it still hurt
but then i started taking out my anger on the objects around me, and myself.
and she’s still changing.
when i’m not biting my nails, im hitting myself.
when im not hitting myself, im biting my nails till my cuticles are bloody and red.
now, when i’m not pulling out my hair, im cutting
and when im not cutting, im pulling bald spots into my hair.
after all she’s don’t to me.
i still run back to her when it gets bad, over, and over again.
I have a cup in my hand.
Spilling it.
Then I pour some into my hands.
Laughing.
So I get more.
Sipping coffee from my palms.
Beautiful.
The journal.
Pages.
Folded up, turning into paper airplanes.
A journal is like…
When my car sputters in the winter,
But it starts up anyway.
Crying.
It’s cold.
Pulling out of the driveway, carefully.
I used to carry my flashlight.
Sweeping the light around.
These days?
I don’t know where light comes from.
Just sparkles.
And reflections in empty trash cans.
I threw away my phone.
I didn’t think they would actually take it.
But the garbage truck comes at 6:00 am every morning.
Earthquakes seem very long.
So I think I imagined it.
Cowering for three hours.
Until I get anxious and want a cup of coffee.
I pour a cup of coffee.
But the shaking makes me drop it again.
It is an unfortunate reality,
Those most able to tie word and misery -
Are most often the least spoken.
They are capable of divining the self,
Pulling out streams of emotion.
- Emotion that is far heavier than simple tears.
The words pull at their friends' heartstrings,
Puppeteering their empathy,
Taking all the warmth that they had too.
That's the curse of an ailed writer,
only knowing ink and page -
because paper doesn't cry.
She cried out, “Coitus interruptus!?
That don't work unless the pulling out precise and abrupt is!
But you always tend to be a millisecond too late!
And if we get child number eight,
that would totally bankrupt us!"
You came outside the same way I came inside
Now, we will cum together the same way
Baby batter on our tongues inside
We come out together shamelessly
Shameful turns everybody on inside
Movement is felt in our membrains
Tickles between our ears and inside
Our legs are stiff and shaking now
Wanting, wonting love inside
Begging for more pronto
Pointed toes release all the more
Harder Harder we came inside
Pulling out whats left inside inside
The world is a beautiful place if you know where to look.
The wonder on a child’s face or even an adults at their first trip to the zoo.
Looking through the lens of a telescope and seeing the craters on the moon.
Pulling out the most beautiful creation from the oven when you try a new recipe.
The hug from a friend you haven’t seen in a while
.
The look on your love’s face as you’re leaning in for a kiss.
Your reflection in the mirror when you realize you are one of those beautiful things too.
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