Searches are common.
God knows what they’re looking for!
Mary-Anna? (we are unisex)
£-s-d? (sorry, we’re all broke)
A sharp wit? (every one here has arrested development)
What do they search for so intimately?
They searched me today.
All they found
was this poem.
The world feels heavy, a mountain of lead,
With sharp, silver needles that pull at my head.
A hollow in the stomach, a weight in the chest,
While the heart tries to find just a moment of rest.
I reached for a hand that I thought was a light,
But they traded my trust for a shadow in flight.
Now the hallways are long and silence is loud,
Just a face in the distance, a ghost in the crowd.
The ink on the paper felt tangled and wrong,
As the rhythm of "self" lost the words to its song.
I'm weary of carrying the blame and the ache,
Of feeling so brittle, I'm destined to break.
But in the quiet, I'm turning my eyes,
To the one who can hear all the world less cries.
Though my body is weak and the road is uphill,
I'll walk through the valley and try to be still.
If the world has forgotten, I know He has not,
I am more than the pain and the battles I've fought.
I'll keep my solitude, sacred and deep,
Until there is peace in the promises I keep.
Sharp
the thorns
who draw blood
from feared fingers
approaching the blooms
Grand garden gatekeepers,
patient and poised guardians
Watchdogs for their botanicals
keeping sound every velvet blossom
Granted ~ butterflies and bees entry
Protective the thorns as sentry
Diligent, the rose's friends
Weaker as Summer ends
While a rose withers
thorns become dull
on frail stems
point less
blunt
I speak in velvet tones,
but my silence cuts cleaner than blades.
They mistake my gentleness
for surrender.
My softness
for something they can press fingerprints into
and leave.
They have never met
the girl who survives quietly.
I do not raise my voice.
I raise my standards.
I do not beg.
I observe.
And when I leave
I do it like winter.
No warning.
Just absence.
My love is warm, yes.
Honeyed. Slow. Devoted.
But my detachment?
Glacial.
You will search for me
in rooms I once lit up,
and find only echoes
that refuse to answer back.
I was never fragile.
I was controlled.
There is a difference.
I learned long ago
that the loudest power
is restraint.
So I let them underestimate me.
Let them think softness means safe.
Until they realize
too late
Velvet can still suffocate.
? The cherishable olive branch,
suffusing the ornamental path
fills a shining ,glorious Pond..
Left slack at the edge of the violin,
an afterthought of gut and wire,
waiting for the bow that never descends.
Every note passes overhead
like birds stitching the sky.
The hollow body drinks their chorus,
yet no song grows inside this wood.
Ears open in the varnish,
dark mouths swallowing everything unfinished—
a concerto of failures,
a catalogue of unsung hours.
Different, always different,
not melody but margin,
not hand but handle.
Still the silence hums,
a taut ghost trembling
whenever others are touched.
What music it might have been
clings like rosin to the air,
faint, impossible,
vanishing before it begins.
So many times, I've held my head low
So many times, I've taken a blow
Somehow, some way, I've pulled on my strings
And found some kind of way to better some things
Take for instance, When I hear a bad rumor
I say to myself- with a good sense of humour
"As bad as it is, someone has it a lot worse than me"
Yet someone's got it worse than them; undoubtedly
I tell all my friends, my children and wife
We all need to have humour installed in our life
A keen sense of humour can help in ways
That could make someone feel better in their toughest days
Life's dull without humour, and it could be quite a bore
We all need to have humour, need I say any more
Humour has helped me to connect all the dots
When I've been tied up- it untangled the knots
Humour is nice, it often makes me smile
It's nice to hear some good humour once in a while
The rewards will reap good and most likely be kind
So, I'll share my good humour with you...
That is, of course... If you don't mind
Witty words keep me sane
A giggle eases, life’s pain
When times are trying
Laugh through the rain
Reroute the grooves
Soften the grain
With faces stiff
A snooty drift
Good humor sees
Life is a gift
Minus a grin
Hard work won’t win
May spot the crowd
But won’t fit in
So when you choose
Smile over frown
You’ll lift the blues
A joyful sound
The reality of life can
leave a bad taste,
especially when dealing
with those who are two-faced.
The road to hell may be
paved with good intentions,
but hell on earth is dealing
with constant contraventions.
Everywhere we look
there is always tension,
coming from those
we'd rather not mention.
But through it all,
there's one thing I've never misplaced,
something that simply
can't be replaced,
a joyful truth that
I've always embraced:
a day without laughter
is just a day gone to waste.
Good Sense Of Humour Blunts The Sharp Blades Of Reality Poetry
Contest //Sponsored by: Natasha L. Scragg
Contest Judged: 8/30/2025 4:27:00 AM
( 2nd Place )
Written: August 5, 2025
When life threw me a curveball,
I stumbled—then chuckled mid-fall.
Lumped knees, not pride, I wore like bent,
because sneering is something I've seen.
In chemo rooms and vestibules,
I frenzied dry jokes on aseptic walls.
Doctors simpered, nurses would beam—
a punch-line where the fear had been.
When agony thumped hard and sleep grew thin,
I let the silly light writhe in.
A meme, a whirl , a silly song—
made aching days feel less so long.
No, humour incurable or patch,
But it's the ally, not made to part.
It doesn't silence, hurt or truth,
but let me smirk with my aching tooth.
So here's my laugh, though life gushes beneath,
it's how I rise, not how I lament!
You begged so pretty.
You bled so easy.
You mistook my knife for a hand.
You held it.
Don't blame my heart for being sharp.
Why call it love?
I never promised that.
A good sense of humour blunts the sharp blades
Lifting a heavy heart, making our burden fades
Permanent or temporary, it’s facial muscles' relaxant aid
Bringing joy and laughter, keep it as a precious jade!
Humour is anti-stress, a powerful medicine in life
A priceless cream to cure our cuts from trial’s knife
When some difficult circumstances come rife
Exchange humour with someone to cope, forget any strife.
Humour only interferes… alleviating boredoms
Strengthens neurons, gives us brilliance and wisdom
As facial muscles stretch from smiles, we can overcome
Some problems pass while sense of humour is our chum.
When our sense of humor weakens or runs-out
Ask AI’s help, watch reels, takes things light, don’t pout
Our own facial expressions can even make some humors sprout
To keep the world laughing, always be ready like a scout!
Good sense of humour :
I always admire.
Good Humour is perfect mind - freshener
with exact effect on Good Listener.
Displaying good humour at right moment
or an intellectual comment,
never to lament ,
but turns gracious,
glorious , gorgeous
to entertain ,
simultaneous has great effect
to soothe pain.
Blades of reality have sharp notions
to cut impulsive emotions.
Precise humour to deliver
acts as right pain - remover..
Good humour to express
any time, more or less
in compassionate style
will manifest exact profile
of the human being
to help in real healing.
Good Humour is perfect mind -freshener
with exact effect on Good Listener.
We look at life as a routine clown show,
Slipping on banana peels that we throw;
Clothing in mismatched socks of hope and sin,
Mirror laughs back with toothpaste on the chin.
We discover that joke requires balance,
Fixing the glaring lamp of limit's glance;
In slippers, we walk the tightrope to sink,
Accepting discord of life with a wink.
We watch humor's wonder in the mundane,
Finding pleasure in the cake’s crashing main;
Light slipping through the blinds as a joke's face
Affirms how humor creeps into dull days.
Life uses the silly to frame the truth,
The absurd softens the bite of a tooth.
A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance
to your steps, as you walk the tightrope of life.
Quote By William Arthur Ward
We were young and filled with responsibilities
new to town, married and in our early twenties
My husband needed surgery and I didn't drive
with two small kids I had to find a way to jive
When I got to the hospital I bought him a souvenir
one big fury ape with a grin that said, "I'm here! "
He wasn't in bed so I put the ape in bed instead
a nurse came in, she almost fell over with dread
He came out of the washroom and found it there
when it comes to humor we make quite a pair
He soon recovered and the ape came live with us
I took driving lessons, now I don't take the bus
This is a true story of how I used humor to cope
years have come and gone still I climb the slope
Using humor in a crisis can surely help my dear,
it can ease the soul and help you when you fear.
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