lost her
she dreamt
shared
despair
lost her
chest
cross
heartbeat
breath
mine
fog
filled my eyes
as if
cataracts
church an act
I cling
to His hem
He heals
lost her
He found her
at his feet
catching
the Spirit
lost her
on earth
she
will be
found
in paradise
I’m still
in bed
holding
the air
in her guest room
holding my
sister’s heart
too
in the next room
rummaging for
something
to hang
onto
lost her
found His eyes
underneath
the thorns
I’m
at the bottom
in the valley
the arrow
a cross
He wept
crocodile tears
like
my dad
but His
were for us
lost her
He caught her
I’m caught up
in grief
it has passed
the past
at last
Importance
Brittle while still beating
Facing ordeals bound unscrupulous
Memories and self-fleeting
Roaming humankind, staying meticulous
Probing for thy true identity
Shedding light upon the unrighteous trials
Rummaging for crumbs of serenity
Confronting the blunt force of society’s denials
This hunger for phrases incomplete
fiercely engulfs me,
rummaging and drowning
my thoughts to slay the winds
and honor my madness.
When I feel something lighting my mind,
a starburst, a craving, a dream...
this virus from a soul quite delirious
spreads over me like wildfire
flowing through the marrow of veins.
Again , each poem becomes my breath;
another strain from heavens's chime
feeling the trickles raking in my navel,
a tattered quill spinning with midnight...
Not accepting sleep, I'm on the brink
of intoxication holding life’s grail
as traces of dawn freeze...
until my verse's breath wakes into a psalm.
7th place premier
Reheating seaweed soup
scooped and steeped from the Milky Way
rummaging sharply into the corners of torn memory
my unripe mother flickers like a candle watching the soup boil
There is no sieve to strain the light of her face that day
yet a cotton quilt smile that could soothe even icicles
a yearning for tomorrow holding starlight pooled within
the fluttering back of my twenty two year old mother
The remaining warmth in the seaweed soup she ate back then
seeping into my time grown heavy as it slowly reduces
tapping my worn and weathered pupils
engraving bitter salty tenacious footprints
Before the birthday dawn dries away
even if only in the haze of a dream
it would be good to see my mother as she was that young day
Now that I’ve reached
a certain age
I’m afraid
every ring of the phone
every knock on the door,
Might be telling me
someone ain’t on this earth
no more.
Dropped stone cold dead
while lying on the couch
watching reruns of NCIS.
Cops rummaging through,
the mess. Looking for clues,
of who did what and,
who knew who.
But a bit excited too
that maybe one of the kids
or the neighbor or
a stranger selling bibles,
Dropped by
just to say hi
and I end up
having an hour-long
talk
About how
my warranty has expired
or why I’m always
so tired anymore
Sunshine can be found even on a gloomy rainy day. Yes, it can be found. You might think that I'm crazy for saying that. But it's true, you can find sunshine anywhere. It's omnipresent. Maybe it's in your smile and you just have to find it by looking at your pictures when you were just a baby or 9 or 10 full of dreams and sunshine of course. You see, finding it is not that hard. The real thing is whether you want to find it or not. Maybe try rummaging through some memory drawers of yours, you might find a gem if the drawers are of great quality. Well, never go looking for the rain, you can always find it in your eyes. Gloomy days have their own value just like every emotion has its own taste. Happiness tastes like a soothing, delectable dessert after eating something spicy when you finally breathe after a day full of sadness and the wisdom that slowly pulls you out of the dreary dark feels like sunshine. How beautiful life is! I think tasting every emotion is living your life to the fullest. Dear reader, go and find that sunshine or eat that dessert that has been waiting for you.
Here comes after the
Ferocious rain pattering,
Wise rays of sunshine.
i hear the ticking of the clock
it's in my head and in my heart
the pulse of life doubtlessly finite
so many things i want to do
the tic toc getting louder
it echoes in my brain
rummaging through images and dreams
while time rings evermore elusive
i get up in the morning determined
with a yearning to break free
driven to spark the momentum
for the many things i want to do
AP: 3rd place 2025
Myriad of wired scenes consumes me
Stained by Hades , shadows lurk
Within a lunar widescreen of a dream---
Voices raking with madness...lost
On phosphorus wisp of evening
Despite frail light in the shade-
Bleak visions cascade on damp floor
Ghastly these shadows crawling
Through serpentine weaves , as if
To pluck my soul, their angst unreleased:
I slither into deeper caves of dreams
Rummaging my last trails of grace,
My faith begging for prayers to lilt...
Until my body wakes, rocking gently
Changing macabre hours into twirls
Of calm, a behest from morning god
While I finally slay my own ghosts.
1st place
1. One little brown bear,
Wanted to shave all his hair.
2. Two anxious alligators disagreed.
Thought the little brown bear,
Would look to different without any hair.
3. Three geese flying by laughed at the bear.
"You could have had feathers instead of hair!"
4. Four ants moved away.
Property values would drop with a little brown bear with no hair.
5. Five fish stuck on a string,
Said they had never seen such a thing!
A little brown bear without any hair.
6. Six snakes slithered into a hole,
"What will happen if our children see,
A little brown bear without any hair?"
7. Seven goats rummaging in the trash.
"It's just a fad and will not last!"
8. Eight great Apes discussed in a tree.
" Is there a law? Do we have to agree?"
9. Nine spotted fawns thought it all out.
"We start with spots and then we are without!"
10. Ten little brown bears all shaved their hair.
Now they're a rock band called Bare Bears,
A wild success from who knows where!
unearthed belongings...
gasps of pleasant astonishment;
e u r e k a!
white elephants galore...
many treasures, too!
fallen into decades of desuetude
old clothes and shoes
to be donated to charity;
some books to be thrown away.
a silver locket, I thought lost;
inscribed with the word "Dreamer"
on the inside.
birthday gift many, many years ago
from my first love. wow!
Life's Menu
The world is a feast
hosting many beasts
lodging its beings
In a palace of bliss
Serving mystery meals
with knives and forks
tending to fangs and claws
Ripping through life’s menu
Feeding on scorn
Feeding on hate
Feeding on the love of men
Lavishly Catering out despairs
Stylishly rummaging
through the hopes
Spreading buffets
of selected illusions
spiced with chaos
Thunderbolt
With the mystical whiff
Dousing the air
he beckons hurriedly
Enticing the day
into the night
standing tall
he struts into the deed
defying every lurking laws
rummaging cloak and dagger
defiling the hallowed hollows
thus, infuriating the sitting gods
alleyway bandits beat the man till he dropped,
as they were rummaging through his wares —
clad in crimson armor a vigilante appeared,
everywhere — no where like a ghoulish phantom,
one by two till all five lay scattered — splattered,
ripped apart by the golden gauntlets of scarlet,
and then it was gone in the zephyr — like smoke.
a bloody canary singing a lullaby of Roanoke.
She skates along the edge of sanity.
The line between disaster and divine.
Heart now tasting the inhumanity,
without the lonely sip of the sweet wine.
Digging whilst drowning the depths of darkness,
rummaging righteousness religiously.
God bleeding sunshine into her starkness,
pruning the soul hath lost prodigiously.
Placing the lotus seed into the earth,
seed splicing and spiraling down and up.
She senses the sprouts swaying, giving birth,
spilling atop the ground below the cup.
Watering new life, soaking up the ground.
Flower below the earth, above the mound.
Rummaging in my attic-
found in a withered white box;
one each for the three of them-
my son's and two daughter's births.
Small treasures, hidden for years
discovered as a surprise-
imprints of their tiny feet
and beaded name bracelets too.
I'm blessed that I found them now-
for many, long years have passed
since I held my sweet newborns-
now with their own families.
Each in their sixtieth year
with stored treasures of their own;
to find again one fine day-
recall their memories too.
Such quick surprises grant us
great joy in reminiscing-
remembering joyous times;
one of life's most precious gifts!
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