A couple, on high passion bent
Were caught loitering with intent
Get a room, they were told,
Before being so bold
But they couldn’t afford the rent
Riveting hopefuls from a-
mong the
festive zombie hordes are
dreaming of
big fat juicy
humans who
might need a
little extra time to
consider just what the
hell to
do now that the
apocalypse has
finally arrived.
Oh mirror mirror on the wall,
I just can’t look at you at all.
For, when I do, the sight I see
Is not the one it used to be.
I see the sadness in my eyes,
The longing that I can’t disguise.
She’s left, the one who made me smile
And life alone is such a trial.
I do not need you anymore.
It’s time to put you in the drawer.
FINISH IN TEN Poetry Contest
Sponsor Nette Onclaud
30th June 2026
Memory is too honest a word for something
That keeps arriving without consent
It shows up in timing
Not thought
A pause where there shouldn’t be one
A second that refuses to move on
I don’t call it back
It just occurs
Like a system running a process, I did not start
Nothing about it asks to be understood
It only proves it still runs
And I stop interfering with it
Because interference
Is where it learns my name again
Money Honey that's ah-fact
Doo Woop ooh we
with me that's where
it's at!
Do my thing
sing and dance
right by me
Baby take that chance!
Love songs
I sing too!
A love of me
ah love of me and you!
They They in We
the Me in Us
We together BBaby, What's the fuss?
Get it right
it's me and You
What better than Us
Now what you Gonna Do?
-------------------------------------------
It's why he here!
Come on Now!
Like when I do this?
Sounds sweetest thou
get it right
aint no fiction
It's us tonight
the Lovers Rendition!
-------------------------------------------------
Carried out by usurpers of power, devious
And evil demonic acts in Australia.' I contend against them and those who empower them.' I appeal to God Almighty
For justice.' For the blood of their victims calls out from
The earth, that witnessed this theater of
Abominations..As did the whole world and
All 'so called judicial systems' Lord help us in Yeshuas Mighty Name.!!!
How do I compare to you, God
What is the scent of my desire
that the golden globes you trod
that the grandeur of the celestial choir
to quicken yet the voids 'neath this sod
oblige your condescension into Hellfire
A tarriff should be earned..When freedom is
Spurned, maybe for a year? A while.' A time.'
Till free speech and expressions can again
Here chime..Can ring..Can raise valid points
Extoll..Quite a blunt weapon, to let commerce
Take its toll.' Still by any means.' Unstifle the
Tounges, that would build and strengthen
All truths true daughters and sons.!
I salute those (about to die??) Figuratively at least.! The
People..How shall I best describe them.? The middle to
Top level bankers..Hedge fund managers..Pension fund
Ceo's you know stockmarket traders at the middle to upper
End.' Who are going to be nutralised.' Monatarily wise.!! Yet
Who know so much, as such..! Maybe enough to save many' and their own skins..If you are of this type?? Yet
Decry of the hype of plenty..Reach out give your a shirt an
Air.' It might otherwise end up being took from you? I think its time
To get clean?? Open your mouths..Redeem your own selves.!
An itsy bitsy spider
Is waiting for the rain
To drip its final droplets down
So she can weave her web again.
Next time she'll choose a better spot
Than that worn-out water spout.
It was damp and cramped
And the sun could never quite
Completely dry it out.
This web she'll string between two trees,
A fat oak and one much thinner.
Then with lacey, lethal table set,
The patient spider will wait some more
To see who'll drop by for dinner.
The heart can be a mailbox
for unsigned love letters.
Best to forget the specific sender.
focus on the beautiful
hand-written script.
God has endless addresses,
yet only one mailbox.
Love can arrive from the unseen,
also from those
you have never met.
The envelopes may even be sealed,
and opened by your own hands.
Do you know what it’s like
To be required no more,
To be put out to grass,
To be kicked out the door,
To know your work’s ended,
No more will be done,
To be slung on the tip,
Pushed aside by the young,
To be pensioned off
In an unceremonious way,
To know you’ve had yours,
Every dog has its day,
To have an appetite for work,
But be left to hunger,
To be replaced by someone
Less able but younger,
To be told you’re too old,
When you feel in your prime,
To be sent on your bike,
Before it’s your time,
To be all washed up
And flushed down the drain,
To have no physical wounds,
But still be in pain,
To feel your age,
Find you’re no Peter Pan,
To see your life going
No longer to plan,
To recall when you felt rich,
But now you feel poor,
To hear your heart slowly pumping,
Alas’ it races no more,
To experience an emptiness
That nothing will fill,
To have no medical symptoms,
But still feel ill,
To be out of control
Of your own destiny,
To be constantly asking
Why me ... why me?
Beauty
Expressed in color
Still, soft sounds
In nature
Upon the horizon
Deep gold
Muted gray
In the pines
Silhouettes
Exposed
Then
Motionless sky
Master artist at work
Quotation marks
Of still life
Slowly horizonal expansion
The Wonder
Of His grace
The pleasure His creation brings
Duty calls
My day starts
Breakfast required
Amen
Written: August 07, 2022
Sunday morn very early
A mind has irretrievably cracked,
After its owner was purposely attacked,
The fact as clear as Midday Sun
His attacker was his own son!
A doubly chilly killing discovery
That defies one to hint at possible recovery
The Attack: Son’s intended disrespect
By way of insistence to publicly inspect
And strictly every goddamned aspect
Of Daddy’s avowed honest prospect:
Daddy’s sincerity of purpose making a trifle
And he sure that his son did secret laughter stifle,
Though with a face officially contorted
Sometimes with mockery distorted …
A son impressing his having acquired
All that it clearly required
To a father’s feeling pointedly ruffle
And forewarn his dropping in the next shuffle.
It was never a question
but just a reminder
a sacrificed memory
of what used to be
(Dreamsleep: February, 2022)
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