I Found A Mile-Long Stick.
And When I Touch It...
The Other End Moves
With Each Shiver.
There And Then.
A Mile Away.
Now Is Now.
-Fast! Not Speedy!-
Just Is.
***
It's Not Resistant
To Struggle...
It's Not Made Of
Connections, Like
Grandma's Whispering
Game... You Recall?
No! It's More Revealing.
It's Not A Stick.
It's Made Of Light.
And It’s More Than A Mile.
It’s Instantaneous...
Distance Maxed.
Not Measurable.
That's How It's
Timeless.
But Our Senses
Feel... Which
Needs:
Propagation!
(According To The Propaganda.)
-Gray Squirrel
08-17-2026
close to the source and yet distant
unknowingness too a delight
no aspect of us resistant
we embark on a wingless flight
To move with such gaiety!
Windily free.
Whilst every route you're on flies off
Rule-resistant.
As laughingly cavelier
Strongholds, here, there
Leaved, tiled, of concord, off pitch peel.
Bared fright! Instant!
Appearances
Don’t be disquieted about the unidentified things of the night
Nor the puzzling which occur during the day without hay
And be not resistant to rectification of any misconceptions
Nor apprehensive about intended friendly encounters
Think about the lonesome deer seen in parks
They neither cause distress like wild bears
nor strike without cause like bobcats which
are less often seen
Appearances can be deceiving much like tricks
So be careful what you think or even wish for
And open to learning – you will always be you
regardless of changes
“That’s woke,”
I heard the old man complain,
as he’s confronted
with an idea
different from his day.
“That’s woke,”
I heard a woman exclaim,
when asked to consider
a point of view
that did not reflect her own.
“That’s woke,”
a declaration of a generation
holding tightly to the old ways,
unwilling to listen,
resistant to change,
refusing to grow.
Giant Sequoia, king of all trees!
Standing mightily against the breeze.
Home in California USA;
Inspiring beholders to this day.
Growing more than 300 feet tall;
By living volume, reigns above all.
Some are over 3,000 years old;
Their wood resistant to fire and mold.
Yet, forest fires help maintain their ranks,
As does huddling near moist river banks.
Evergreen trees with lovely red wood;
US Parks protect them as they should.
The largest among them in terms of mass,
General Sherman, in its own class.
Waterfall Tree has the greatest girth,
And Reedwood is the tallest on earth.
No matter what the type of measure,
Each tree is a natural treasure.
Viewing their presence oh-so-stately;
Centuries ago or just lately.
Balance
Biodiversification is important
Because it creates a
Balance
Between
Bacteria and
Benzylpenicillin. This can be a major problem if one develops
Bronchial pneumonia and has significant
Bronchoconstriction. Some forms of the
Bacillus can be resistant to this form of penicillin which can
Be
Bad for patients so afflicted. The
Best thing they can do is have a
Bronchoscopy as soon as possible and use a
Bronchodilator to help them
Breathe easier and take a
Benzodiazepine to calm their anxiety. Perhaps the some
Brainstorming a new
Bioavailable drug will appear. If not, this is all
Bull durham
"Don't avoid extremes, and don't choose any one extreme. Remain available to both the polarities - that is the art, the secret of balancing." ~ Rajneesh
grapPle or avoid
violation or Obedience
hate or Love
peace or wAr
biRth or death
definite or Imprecise
resistanT or resigned
rivalrY or harmony.
Written: Jun 2nd, 2026, for a contest sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
****************
A poetic reply to a piece created by Nobel Prize winner and Mexican poet /writer, Octavio Paz:
There is not
A single soul among the trees
And I
Don't know where I've gone.
"I step—"into the quiet rising from trees,
my fingers are tracing the cold, resistant bark.
"The path— waits, thin as~a breath before speaking"
Birds' flight testifies~our souls prowl woods.
"The wind—" fails to read~the omen of fate,
A frightful form frays from a furred finger.
"The gap—" between roots is all that we are;
a wraith, fumbling for skin~outruns my frantic stride.
"I follow—" until its echo threads my footsteps,
and I am found, rooted to~disappear...
In the depth of my soul,
Lies nothingness next to my existence.
In a box lacking pure experience
Only one question is anchored in me,
“Is it mine purely, or just a monograph?”
A question with confusing philosophy.
Behind this social “instrument”,
Lies a resistant mind
Full of dreams and visions,
Not expressed due to fixed missions.
I say experience lies in uncertainty,
But told to trust the tangible
The “truth”punished for if questioned.
Truthfully, another question haunts me,
“Do I surrender, or do i explore the mystery?”
riding a tractor
I reacted to its tread -
underneath put down
buried like a seed
watered and lit by the sun -
produced grateful fruit
what a shiny ride
blue skies, cotton clouds, straight back -
resistant to wind
troubles enhance croon
held up by the earth angels -
smiling at the youths
newbies want to ride
wisdom is reared on the seat -
knowingly, I pray
God has a track record
of keeping His Holy word
when it comes to Him
you can be sure of what you've heard
He will deliver, He will provide
He will always be by our sides
God is consistent, He's persistent
most resistant and totally insistent
He will deliver, He will provide
He will always be by our sides
God has the credentials and potential
to safeguard our beings
He's all knowing, all showing,
and most of all all seeing
He will prevail on a massive scale
every single day
never leave us nor forsake us
He's only a prayer away
He will deliver, He will provide.
He will always be by our sides
God supplies and amplifies
us with His powerful might
He will secure and assure
we dwell in His spiritual light
God is great, never late
always on time
great protector, life style director
Holy and divine
He will deliver, He will provide
He will always be by our sides
He will prevail on a massive scale
each and everyday
never leave us
nor forsake us
just a prayer away
He will deliver
He will provide
God will always be
by our sides
He sat upon his handcrafted mahogany stool
Facing the white plains of his canvas
His palette ready with selected color
Vision crisp and sharp like salted chips
Raising his brush to touch the matter
...clumps
The connection is resistant to attention
The heart is cracked, but never open
Movement toward closes opportunity
Like a mechanical apparatus without pause
So, the artist puts down paint and brush
Focusing on the receptivity of the canvas
...smooth
Once again, he draws close to deliver
The paint touches but turns to deep black
Blind people can't see value without light
The other senses sharpen the focus
Hearing what isn't refracted
Feeling what shouldn't be touched
...taste
Patience guides the flow of the artist
As he speaks life over the flowing paint
"My love, I infuse my vision in every stroke
You are no longer barren and afraid."
The canvas vibrates as sight is restored
The image brings forth the fruit
...goodness
"You, precious one....are not for sale."
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-26-2026
Unstable, violent, and inconsistent,
to basic logic, they are resistant.
Rather than being glorified and extolled,
the human species must be controlled.
I would say something like that, of course,
just because I am a horse.
You may see me as so much smut,
in my mouth lies the hardest stone.
A single bite straight to the bone,
rotting diamond teeth will still cut.
I’ve got this age-resistant strut,
ninety proof that I walk alone.
You may see me as so much smut,
in my mouth lies the hardest stone.
Filled with such polished etiquette
the sick properties held are known.
There are things I haven’t outgrown.
With all four ‘C’s keep the door shut,
you may see me as so much smut.
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