Things the eye should be kept from.
Dear sentry, with your own!
Of its brightness wrapped above
For that being of Love.
Shameless, for naked horrors
All feel meant for trapped in.
For worlds, vilest, sectioned off as
Hate's stalked through morass.
Your branches hang gnarled
by years of torment
by the winds over time
the climbing of young kids
many battles fought
oh the stories you could tell
if only your branches could speak
you stand alone
in a deserted field
sectioned off by metal chains
someone wants to preserve you
and your beauty
they come by the dozens
to adore you,
but you are lonesome
for their touch
The mind was an enemy of itself
A weapon forged by its own hands
Every thought a spiral of panic
Every decision a thought out plan
Silence became a blessing when noise is all you've known
It becomes a safe place after a war of chaos
The betrayal of your own thoughts is a tragedy on its own
To not have your own back, in a world against you
Is to have a house not a home
To be surrounded by people, yet still feel alone
A prison of your insecurities
Haunted by the ghost of regrets
Forever lingering in the deepest part of your soul
The mind a vast ocean of dead past selves
Screaming to be heard
Begging to be known
Wailing to be loved
But who could love a mind that's perception of love is non-existent
Fatigue drains the fight from the spirit
Within the mind numbness creeps
Paralysing the mind until it gives in
To a life sectioned by depression
Until the poison of self deprication becomes too much
That you fall into the state of being a zombie
Trapped inside a body you no longer own
Each day becomes a blur
A constant reminder of a life long gone
A sad ending to the person you were
Sectioned and lined
they're all refined
cracks I can't hide
or feelings inside
I wiggle and turn
like an earth worm
dying on the pavement
with no bereavement
I am not the only one
baking under the sun
skin is cracking
body retracting
I turn and coil
trying for fertile soil
it's too far away
I am left to decay.
succulent orange
sectioned ready for sharing ~
not a soul in sight
AP: 2nd place 2026
Submitted on May 24, 2025 to contest A FRUITY HAIKU sponsored by TANIA KITCHIN - RANKED 3RD
connection
A longing, my dear stranger
expression
Put it all back together
I know it fits
We fit
Spiral dynamics
The mountain and
Its wet reflection
Reflected back to heaven
Upward, onward
Connection!
You're in my visceral section
I'm in your sacral area
With one heart between the both of us
Severed up and down
Sectioned side to side
Earth and Heaven
Male and Female
How long we bore this cross
This vivisection
Restore! Make whole!
Connection!
Pouring myself into you
Is exactly what i needed
Today
Tonight, i receive you
Interpenetration
Not up for interpretation
Coronal crown
life, so virile
with this eye
I see
we've overcome
Tomorrow, as though it were yesterday
The sacred serpent
Like a trumpet
To our lips
Writhed himself into us at the tip
And received our fluid chemistry
Producing musical harmony
what have we become?
when mastubation's lost its fun, my sweetest friend
connect
Connect
CONNECT!
HOLY
Holy
holy
Past, present, future
A single tapestry
Woven of a single fibre
Our very being
connection
Sectioned into different compartments,
I'm buoyed,
I stay afloat in the raging sea,
Time has taught me this lesson,
Experience has shown me this path,
The sages have given me this key,
As I sojourn through life's mystery lane,
As dawn chauffeurs me through
the shadows of time,
My heart is not fragmented by the clime,
Every trouble for its compartment,
Every cloud for its drawer,
Every gloom for its chamber,
Sleep is not a wish escape,
I'm not shielded from the smiling sun.
August 4, 2023.
I remember being eight years old,
Crying over the most valuable person in my life being ripped away.
I Remember being eleven years old,
Screaming ' you' at your grave,
Filled with anger and despair,
Wanting to visit you in the devil's lair.
I remember being thirteen years old,
Suicidal thoughts consumed my mind,
I wanted to be with you,
Because life was not fair.
I remember being fifteen years old,
My first serious suicide attempt,
Wanting to visit you,
Even if it was in the devil's lair.
I remember being seventeen years old,
Being sectioned in hospital,
For your death left a hole in my heart,
For I remember.
I entered the ward in clerical attire,
my presence setting a young patient on fire
with fury. “You preachers who teach us about
forgiveness from God,” as she started to shout.
“My step-dad tells me he's been born again,
freed through the mercy of Jesus. That was when
he'd confessed at his church just what he had done
to me. The pastor told him that he had won
forgiveness from Jesus and now he was free.
Well just how do you think that feels like for me?
I've not forgiven him, so bugger your God.
No freedom for me from that dirty old sod.”
She collapsed in sobs.
Could medication save her,
having been sectioned here for her behaviour.
Others looked at me as she continued to weep.
How would I respond when mercy seemed cheap?
He might have felt ashamed at being caught out
but the freedom he had found was worthless without
forgiveness from her.
I could only listen
in sorrow and absorb without condition
the hurt. On God's behalf I said, “I'm sorry.”
The pain, the hurt continues in Christ's body.
In the City of Galactic Beings of light, there is no disease no feast or famine
floodlight beings from another dimension take our best interest at heart
They own Divine connection to each and every one of us
as they pour out light, truth and inspiration they help us to
stay connected to each other...
They lead us to inspired thought and action, 22 intergalactic races
living in communion as one under one big beautiful, pulsing sun
The battle has been won already, we just need to open our eyes and see
that the destruction of humanity is on a set course for a re-awakening
we will all soon move like luminous vapors into the nimbus light of God
some of us limping, some of us whole, some of us sectioned off
but we will All be loved under the big red umbrella of UNCONDITONAL LOVE
The Poem Is Dedicated To My Friend Dianne
Without Her Love And Understanding, I would not have understood
the grandeur side of this wonderful act of selfless love...
Have you heard
a carrot scream,
when dragged outta earth?
Or the yell of green beans
peeled alive
severed cross-wise, sectioned?
Or the curdling
yell of purple potatoes
plonked alive in
boiling water?
Or the plaintive cry of yellow corn
cobs stripped-searched, naked.
All to be less-wasteful,
and draw humanely,
and guilt-free,
in noise-cancelling
headphones.
giant worm infestation in my mind tonight
climbing up, simultaneously climbing down
engineering side rivaling artistic relief
bubbly puffy grayscale creatures
sectioned in rounded compartments
their fat butts showing, striped and round
climbing up and climbing down
In two’s and three’s they make the fabricated climb
lizard-like, but no, more rounded, more like worms with tails
drawn by Escher fine, his artistry so precise, it sails….
Rounded doorways in grayscale walls, lead to nowhere fast.
None of these creatures elongated or tall, their fate is clearly cast.
They’ll parade around in my mind tonight when I should sleep.
M.C. Escher, your mind was clearly out of sight; your legacy so deep.
Climbing up, climbing down.
I will dream of these worms around and round.
A QUESTION OF fruit-What do bananas do, when they un peel their skins?
they await being eaten by hungry humans...
What do grapes do, when they are all dried up...
and blue and purple act like Dracula...
they dry up risen?
What do oranges do when they're unpeeled and quartered?
they're separated sectioned off and placed one at a time in a mouth...
YUM!!
that's what fruits do when they are being eaten and chewed.
All the President's memes;
Rose up into an army of stems;
They grew bold legs to carry them,
Towards the good fight.
Though cavalier and sensing right;
They lacked a head to give foresight;
They strayed into a chasmed height,
And tumbled in.
They spiralled, spinning through an age;
Passed darkened chambers, retrograde;
And filled with colored animades,
In sectioned aisles.
Here gall-eyed figures mocked them all;
With cackles, boos and whistled calls;
Rejoiced the epic fall unfold,
Before their eyes.
A voice boomed out as stems rained down;
And pacified the baying crowd;
This mighty scribed the building mound,
With an epitaph.
"That you did dare to set back time,
To turn around and redefine,
What Nature has herself refined,
This is your path.
And what you'll meet at bottom's end,
Will be a sad reflection friend,
Of empires built, destroyed again,
And gone from sight"
it’s scary to bloom in front of the world. Put me in a pot sectioned off from all the ‘isms’. I can’t wait to tiptoe into my beauty. Every aspirations accommodating sadness. Teaching sadness to smile.
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