We live in a matrix of unpredictability,
your fate randomized at best
by numbers shouted out by a bingo caller.
B for birth marks, qualities and defects.
I for inherent or sudden health issues.
N for near death experiences altering your life.
G for grand events that bring you happiness.
O for obituaries and the inevitability of death.
We can't take anything for granted.
We draw straws and just accept that
life is a gift ~ come what may.
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
I'm standing close by a river of rhyme,
where words cascade, in endless pantomime,
each line is a ripple, on the rugose water's crest,
but the chaotic current seems a randomized mess.
I see waves of words riding swells of sonnet,
into concrete verse, only to crash upon it.
There are dark plaintive whirlpools of elegy
and swirling haikus kissing off sharp envoi.
This river of rhyme could wash me away,
with its desperate currents of poetic dismay.
Its sensual verses can become a toxic wine,
oh, God, don’t let me drown in the river of rhyme.
Sit a spell young fellow
Hear the whisper of the Dahlia?
She sings in the summer breeze
While protracted sounds of fallow symbiosis
Whine between your ears
What appears by nature randomized
Preselected for your eyes
Hailed to halt the wanderer
You falling into wonder pale
I stand alone a barking tree, where silent sorrows of ripples flee,
No one hears my calamity, wearing weeps of my raped reality…
Branches droop to ice-cold ground, solitudes surface of their drowned,
Abysmal anguish of leaves have browned, lacrimal echoes of their sound.
Randomized reflections of rivers flow, suffering scourges in their woe,
Ripples raging in their row, creating cabalistic contrasts as they grow…
The forest dense as to populate, the seeds of seduction must copulate,
All is dormant until the eyes dilate, weeping willows that magistrate.
I accept my life near the lamenting lake, weathering wounds as I wake,
The wood whispers as to ache, secluded shadows share the snake…
Wandering waters that ripples bring, vines that struggle in their swing,
Alone in my salvaged spring, where sparrows segregate in their sing.
Gif # 1
02.25.2020
Placed 1'st & POTD...Thank You
Should I get back
To the randomized drum attack
Or what would you let
Me survive and drum
Upon a double bass drum dream
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