My selfish own divine mission.
“Myself definitely worth nothing, In the eyes of the society but, My selfish own divine mission.
Which myself depends on, no one else but! Strive in the name of the Lord in my lonely life,
To fulfill my ambition without a split of blood In the streets of politics‘?”
--Author Abdul Haye Amin.
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It was the last rose.
Forbidden but I had to have it.
Clutched it with no regret.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
"Sometimes there are No words just feelings that talk very loud." By Poet
I was a young child,
about four years old.
My doggie blackie was killed,
dad's car ran him over.
I pondered why,
then God sent me Wheatie.
In school,
I pondered why kids are so mean?
Maybe one day they will grow out of it.
In my teens the boys were selfish,
I pondered then dated graduates.
I have spent many hours pondering about things,
then the answer comes as clear as day.
You took and took till there was
nothing left to give. I would have given you
the moon and so much more.
I never understood
how you so casually dismissed me.
Was it all owed to you?
I wanted to be your knight in shining armour
but you didn't care to be my princess.
You were the party girl bent on having fun.
You'd been a teenage mom who'd lost her youth
rebelling against society's norms
of all that's good and decent.
I never understood and probably never will.
I wanted for us a life of happiness while
you were more interested in having fun.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Not Selfish
They call it selfish
from the outside of the storm.
But inside,
it doesn’t feel like wanting attention
or wanting to hurt anyone.
It feels like static in your chest
that won’t turn off.
Like carrying a weight
that grows heavier
every time you pretend you’re fine.
It feels like apologizing
for taking up space.
Like believing
everyone would breathe easier
if you just… disappeared.
Not because you don’t love them.
Not because you don’t care.
But because the pain is loud
and your worth feels quiet.
It isn’t greed.
It isn’t cruelty.
It’s exhaustion dressed up
as escape.
And somewhere beneath all that noise
is a heart that never wanted to hurt anyone —
just wanted the hurting
to stop.
I am dumb.
Foolishness stays over me and coats my throat till I cant be me.
Tears threatening to leak.
I bite my tongue, only for the words to stop in my throat.. Because maybe no one cares..?
Maybe that "can" change..? Knowing well enough that it wont..
And never will.
Standing my ground ,hoping to be felt
But never is.
To stop from being me to being insecure to speak.
Spent so long being "okay" that I don't know if "am" okay or... not?
How foolish
Knowing it isn't
Only for me to "betray" them
Either way,
Am selfish.
And will "always" be.. in their eyes
For them to judge
And never to judge.
can it be, equanimity the antidote
a life unexamined, is a life not worth living
self-absorption hears the drum of one
it an ego-driven malfunction
wrong reality rapt in silent adagio
the sponge soaks the water and cannot desiccate
your desires alone illusory, arrogance
leading to aversion, not to confuse with self-love
Oyez soliloquy! (gavel strikes) so hence
primal love you claim to defend—a chimera
Voir Dire on Love
I Am Anaya
2/21/26
Humans are the most selfish creatures on Earth,
The original parasites.
We latch onto each other, claiming life is unliveable without them,
Trapping them into our cycle of destruction.
Every human has a cycle of destruction,
Some slower, some more rapid.
Most people destroy themselves through drugs,
A quick hit that makes you feel instantaneously better, yet fades quicker.
Others destroy their thoughts, poisoning their minds.
Some destroy other people, gaining a small relief that the other didn’t hurt them.
Forget a fight or flight mentality,
It’s kill or be killed.
That is human nature.
We, the most selfish species on Earth,
Hunt our enemies, our friends, before they hunt you.
Vulnerability is our biggest weakness.
Despite it all I think we must admit when chips are down
that we have no real reason to complain.
Though every day we swim against the flow so not to drown,
we always have what it takes to sustain.
We read of Manna falling in the desert long ago
when Moses lead Isreal across the land,
and wonder how these people could complain like that, you know.
How is it that they didn’t understand?
Yet we are worse than them considering all God’s given us,
and the extent of His works in our day.
We’ve lived the lives of kings midst miracles so numerous
and just like Isreal we have found a way
to justify our countless golden idols and our greed.
No, we’ve not changed a bit from then till now.
We didn’t learn of Manna – you don’t take more than you need,
yet we still think we’re pleasing God somehow.
But despite it all, the promised land still lies ahead.
Like Isreal, amongst us there’s a few -
our children who have faith enough to be content with bread.
Yes, children of the promise through and through.
In savage streets it’s hand to hand
once shrapnel rips the air that’s damned,
no sin of ego in this land.
Baptismal bloodshed echoes
through rust and rebar ghettoes.
There’s bullet swarms and rocket rain
but infantry must hit terrain,
forget I’m sane and rupture veins
with melee-trench-knife flashing,
the bane of peace doves, slashing.
I wear their red of death and drive
my blade abuzz in hellish hive
to stay alive! Yes stay alive!
The apathy of killing,
and twisting morals willing.
My heartbeat kept, a victory,
it pounds just like artillery
but prized, despite the misery.
A witness to destruction
and holy soul’s corruption
and christened by the selfishness
of presidents with negligence,
we soldiers march with evilness.
The narcissistic leaders,
the preachers and the breeders
of rhythmic spates in drumbeat hate
unfurl their nation flags and fate
in bloodlust war… while heads of state
stay combat clean in bunkers.
I witness gurgling utters
your last and bloody gasp for “mama”.
I grasp with greed my breath in chest.
Thought ricochets inside my skull;
I’m still alive! I'm still alive! I'm still alive . . .
War in its profound essence
begins not in the battlefield,
but in the dark chambers of human ego.
The self-interest thrives on the illusion of invincibility,
distorts the judgement of historical forces,
designs the destiny of nations
to misshape the configuration of the world.
The selfish egos of war write the story of pride,
seeking a permanent legacy of triumph.
The tragedy lies in their blindness to the primary truth
that all existence is intertwined,
and to harm others is to destroy oneself
when the guns go silent and the dusts settle.
In the irrationality of war their vanity
can’t transcend the narrow limits of egotism.
Sedated by the delusion of greatness
the selfish egos of war seek to embed themselves
upon the enduring world,
but their quest for immortality ironically hastens erasure.
It’s usually old men who pretend
They have something to lose
In sending younger stronger men
To war, it’s a selfish thing to do
If your youth abandoned you
You seek glory in other ways
As a fertile man in youth
Rarely did you save the day
Unless you were a veteran
Which most likely you were not
For if so you would know
About semper fi going in hot
You would be more aware
Of how it feels to lose a fight
When boots on the ground is a dare
And everyone will not survive
The selfish thoughts in your mind take up arms…
Moving through the inner chambers of your thoughts.
Your ego, sharp and frosty as winter--
prowls among others, leaving its mark and sneering.
Patience huddles in the corner…
folding her hands and cooing ;
“We each go back to the earth when our hour finally closes.”
The ordinary moments lean close ,
laying their hushes against your ear.
Kindness leans in, pressing a hand to your shoulder,
watching Pride storm past.
Understanding walks at your side ,
its steps measured… its counsel sure.
Breathe in slowly and remind yourself:
“Goodness moves with me into every moment."
written 12042025_Don Mueang
"I am great. I'm an elephant in strength.
I'm a lion, tiger, bear, and beaver.
I can measure things by their breadth and length.
Am I not the globe's greatest achiever?"
Thus, the ruler said and proclaimed a war.
Things turned into a hustle and bustle.
Terror and tension lurked in each one's core.
Nature, with an anguish, seemed to rustle.
Artillery and anti-tank missiles
With naval and air-based weaponry clashed.
Amidst thunderous blasts, roars, and whistles
Unquenched egos, into shells, crashed.
Blood, from the wounds of the soldiers, bubbled.
Deaths and decays of the humans doubled.
The middle eastern spell that shames the solemn
In shadowed midden dwells the stain now common
In darkness beaten fell in name of goodwill
Our princess peace repels their pain and blood spill
She struggles selfless held in chains by order
Poor passive tranquil, gelled by blames and borders
The stolen fertile meld of reigns now taken
Where powered egos tell of hope forsaken
Let gentle logic down the dames of warfare
Whose metal madness grounds the games to threadbare
Pray mistral mildness pound and maim their story
'Til peaceful light surrounds regaining glory
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