When to replace something
Which will expire
Is a question all homeowners face.
Is it better to wait
‘Til a problem comes up
In the item you need to replace…
Or perhaps it makes sense,
When that item is old,
To just ditch it and buy something new.
If it works but you’ve had it
A really long time, then
You know what’s the right thing to do.
It’s a gamble to hope that
Your item will last
For if suddenly, it starts to break,
You must deal with the consequence
And chalk it up
To a classic homeowner’s mistake.
My
dear wife,
heart of hearts,
there, your love lives.
In peace and with grace.
Come rainfall, come sunshine,
like moon and stars in the clouds.
Nothing else can replace your love.
For heavens, for earth, I'll still love you.
I pray that God will guide, guard, and keep us.
Let's flee from things that can keep us apart.
With God on our sides, we'll overcome.
Let's get involved with our full minds,
such that our hearts can love more.
Since hearts are meant for love,
we won't stop our love.
God on our side.
Till the end,
with love,
dear.
You will ever be as constant as change~
nothing will ever replace you in me.
Written for the contest: Write Two Beautiful Lines
Contest Judged: 3/4/2025 4:10:00 PM
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placement: 4th
There once was a Marm with a dripping cold
Whose bright idea she feared would unfold:
Her deep scribed porcelain face
Was far harder to replace
Then a soaked sink her plumber could not hold.
Our heat and a/c units,
Which are mounted on the wall,
Have remote controls for every room,
Which workers did install.
The living room, since larger,
Has another cool device
With a touch-screen, though the room’s remote
Would certainly suffice.
Still, we were told to use the screen
Instead of the remote
To heat or cool that space and so,
We’ve listened to that note.
A tap relays the temperature
Or lets us then adjust
The way we want the air to flow
And it has earned our trust…
Until we found the screen gone blank.
New batteries did yield
A simple message, loud and clear -
“Replace me,” it revealed.
Imagine all our objects
With the power to command.
It feels like science fiction’s
Somehow gained the upper hand.
We are watching TV news indicating catastrophes, people
discriminating and being prejudiced against others while
sinning, doing bad things, telling lies and environmental
problems created at Camp LeJeune.
Breaking rules should be in there somewhere.
Why do people write, "Letters to the Editor" anyway?
What do they want to gain from their letter? Article
might be an expression of dissatisfaction, disagreement
and doubt. They may be filled with animosity also
We could be giving credit where credit is due, being
positive, patient, loving and kind.
People have been killed or injured, affected by bad
weather, calamities and health problems. and
things that are terrifying.
We must give credit where credit is due. What you
give out is what you will receive in return. Give out
love, kindness and mercy and will receive the same
back.
Do not criticize others to build yourself up. Encourage
others to do good and better themselves. Would be
interested in reader's comments regarding this article
that I have written.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran
Believer of God and Jesus
RiverSea Plantation
Hatred and enmity are highly poisonous
As they fully make heart and mind sterile
By pumping enormous animosity we all
Contaminate the minds of humanity totally
When we hate a thing, we injure ourselves
Our blood is slowly getting heated badly
Our temper is driven toward sure collapse
We enter into the bad books of dear ones
Better to love and think of those niceties
That made our lives highly memorable
Nasty past must be immediately ignored
Heart must get soon a positive rhythm
Prayer and positive views must fill our heart
Hopeful thoughts must permeate our mind
We must not allow entry for this pessimism
Joy must enter into our system with vigor
Replace hatred by love, mercy and affection
Locate the brighter side of all those things
That pump into your heart happy thoughts
Control wisely heart, mind and your soul!
Were we born to smile?
I ask myself the question
And wait for a reply
But I tell myself once more
Were we born to feel happy?
Were we born to feel joy?
I got into a collective thought
And wonder.............
Were we born to feel emotions?
Oh wait!!!
No
We weren't
Or were we?
After being stabbed
By friends that later ends
I burn in rage
And cry to beyond heights
That all relationships ends and also friends
My hat has a gardenia that refuses to behave.
She throws a fit that would make a Neanderthal cave.
I asked what she needed, what helps, what does she crave?
She said she always wanted a close straight razor shave.
But wouldn’t that hurt you as you are made of straw?
She gave me a look that made my heart blanch and turn raw.
A gardenia and yet, she is as abusive as a rabid jackdaw.
I wish my hat had instead a dead rooster’s lifeless claw.
If I changed my looks
it would satisfy many,
but it wouldn't make me feel comfortable
with what I was born with, what nobody has;
my traits are my identity:
beauty can replace the ugliness of thoughts:
I cultivate it strengthening minds that are so fragile!
I am cute and liked by everybody,
I laugh, I sing ballads and people listen;
girls used to flock to me and touch me
as if I were a sex god ready to indulge, but in reality
I keep true to myself and dedicate myself to only one...
while those envious girls' eyes glisten!
Beauty can replace the ugliness of thoughts,
that certain glow sparkling in someone's eyes...
making one smile and brightening up gloomy skies!
A miserable face is never welcomed in cheerful crowds,
being happy is living life and inspiring others,
spring and winter are examples of a wide divide:
in which one you find more thrill, more pleasure?
Choose harmony over dissonance, joy over sadness!
I cozy up..
not wanting the cold to seep down further
into my already shaking being
somehow blinded by the fact
that the chill was begun deep and long ago
unable to shake the icy beast.
Sleep eludes me..
The tired body and drooping eyes seem
no match for the raging of remembered past
overtaking my thoughts, tormenting my future,
dashing all hope of now forgotten peace
and disturbing the pretense of nightly rest.
Be still, my thoughts.
Create a void. Let calm instead
take hold of dark and captive stay
long past the morning's giving light.
Replace with fresh directions straight
toward sweet tomorrow's warm embrace,
pierce through the cold where trust awaits.
So much of what is frothy babble
is laid before us as a truth when in truth
it is but frothy babble.
Each shiny coin newly mined and minted
with a fragrance green as the grasses
passes for a personage we would gather.
Coins as friends,
Ends justifying means,
The aftermath of fruitful beans.
Upon a curved light borne
he hones his friendships
as slivers of glass.
Reflections all so tall
and all so disavowed;
nor allowed the looser noose
of the absolute.
What is that fragrance passing
for a freedom.
What is that passing need
as the world turns,
as the days of our lives burn,
as we move as one multitude
beneath a blanket of toes
with our noses wrapped.
Worrying, scurrying for
the last scrap of paper
on which is printed not
a single famous image
but is destined
to carry our waste.
I am of Nosferatu sucking out the life force damning it to hell.
I am the bringer of death to the closed mind, the inhibited self.
I am that which is feared and escaped by all with free will.
I am of the race that feeds off the dead in thought and the spiritually ill.
I prey on the assimilated with no minds of their own.
I take and become them as they become my drones.
If you choose to abide and conform to the norm,
You make my job easy to assume your form.
If you choose to assume a ready-made face,
You make my work simple to take your place.
If your life and being fits the usual mold,
To me you have just been bought and sold.
If you follow the old pattern pre-made,
I am your shadow to become your shade.
But if you choose it thus not to be,
Then you choose to thwart and deny me.
When the choices you make are yours alone,
A visit from me you will ever postpone.
When your spirit’s not tethered and let to roam free,
I will never become you and you will never be me.
So if you choose to be self and soul true,
I will never know to replace you.
The moon is shining on the sky.
And the stars are shining as well.
So eventhing on the sky are inline.
That means everything on the sky are abusolutly.
Even here earth everything are inline as well.
Because whereever i are, you are there with me.
When i open my eyes, you are first thing to see.
When i close my eyes, you are last thing to see.
My heart is beating inline, because you are in my heart.
Everyone now can able to see my teeth, because you are in my happiness, as you are incharge in my heart.
Now am laughing, because you placed me in your world.
Now am hot, because of your fire in my heart.
Without you im nowhere, am nothing, nothing, nothing.
poem by ndidzulafhi patric munyai
Books are being stacked on the streets to impinge
blame on their words as worthless thoughts;
yesterday they were a great source of knowledge.
Scriptwriting is being totally replaced by obsessive texting,
one of the marvels of our artificial intellect;
once reading and writing were the only icons of learning.
Soon robots will replace human intelligence:
trains, buses, and cars controlled by a computer;
havoc on the minds of travelers with exigence.
A hysterical Greta explains the results of negligence
to the UN Assembly, they seem to ignore her;
climate changes can't be spoken with transience.
How can anyone face those horrifying events?
Hollywood enhances them with their imagination;
even asteroids frighten us more than earthquakes.
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