Trying to understand
all of the mysteries of the world -
all of the politics, the emotions....
become blurred.
As humans we should know better
since we are supposed to be
the most intelligent race,
well if this is true then why are we promoting things
that are an udder disgrace?
We need to talk => We're doing great
This can't wait => This is not the time
Please do the dishes => Rest, your weary soul
The roof is leaking => Go back to bed
Let's leave at seven => It's half-past nine
Time to go, right now => Let's stay a little longer
Don't eat the last one => I just took a nibble
That shirt is awful => It's bold and beautiful
Act your age => Which one, yours or mine?
You've told that joke before => Yeah, but you missed the punchline
You should know better => Yet here we are
Don't push your luck => I dice with reality
Enough is enough => Just one more chance
Perhaps you're wrong => I'm mostly right, aren't I
We must be careful => We'll be alright
Are we there yet => All in good time
We're lost, aren't we => We're exploring alternatives
You missed the point => I found a better one
That's impossible => That's never stopped me
Don't make a scene => Then, why is everyone pretending?
The glass is half empty => Great, there's room for more
I'm leaving => Please, not now, surely
Are you listening => Just perfectly fine
I hear you loud and clear => I'm sorry, what was that?
Yes, exactly => It's selective my dear
A child your age should know better.
You know exactly why you're being punished.
I hope you never do that again.
Let this be a lesson you'll remember.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Gun control would be so mean
it’s much nicer this way, said cousin Gene
but some are challenged, should they own a gun?
Of course he told me. It’s part of the fun.
The fun of murdering people at a mall?
What is joyful about that, asked Cousin Paul.
You’re a liberal, said Gene, don’t speak to me.
as he watched gun violence on his TV.
People who should know better, do not, I said.
No one needs an assault rifle, making people dead.
You don’t know what you’re saying, said cousin Gene.
We need guns for protection, I have seventeen.
At dawn,
you graze my face
tracing my jawline with your thumb to say:
“It’s nice to have someone here for once.”
I should know better than obsessing over men
whose attention doesn’t need begging
stitching myself into bedsheets
meant to be left half empty
but I guess you just get me.
If home is a body,
I already sense aftershocks
self-inflicted eviction setting in
slipping away half asleep
dreading the inevitability of leaving.
I see right through you,
you can play dumb all you want
~ if that's your winning strategy
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I have always been too much.
Too loud when silence was sacred,
too soft when the world begged for steel.
Too eager, too open, too full of something
that spilled out in all the wrong places.
I laugh too hard, love too deep,
feel everything with a weight that bends my bones.
I do not know how to be small,
how to fold myself neatly into their hands.
They make me feel like a stain on something pristine, like I should know better than to be seen.
like my existence is a mess they have to step over.
Like my voice is a fire alarm
in a room that was meant to stay quiet.
I have tried to press myself into corners,
tried to sand myself down into something palatable,
but even my silence is too loud.
Even my absence is felt.
They do not know what to do with me.
With the way I love without restraint,
with the way I burn without asking for permission.
So they turn away,
so they call it embarrassing, exhausting—
so they pretend not to see.
I have always been too much.
And I am tired of apologizing for it.
Loneliness is confinement rather that fear,
a need to suppress reality;
how dreadful is to live daily
in a closed box without sunshine and air!
Was there a constant voice whispering,
" Go after your wishes, it's freewheeling! "
Roger is an example of sheer irony,
his proposal was rejected by Milly;
nothing he saw was reasonably good,
his days were unappreciative and sad.
Even brilliant minds quickly surrender
to strain: they should know better!
Is there enough confidence
to go after your wishes on quick sand?
No shortcuts are recommended:
you will end up empty-ended;
daring is bold, it needs no courage
to break down that constant rage!
My suggestion to you, buddy is to break free:
get rid of false hypothesis;
dreamer, go after your wishes:
heed these words, don't get stunk by a bee!
Dreamer, go after your wishes:
express thoughts of positivity;
never indulge in self-pity,
spare yourself tons of tears!
Time and distance—speed and time—allow us to see the good in most people. I strive to recognize the goodness in others, even when hope seems endless. They bid for my love, and my boomerang-addicted heart should know better. Why hide the truth about one's feelings? However, expressing emotions through self-care is essential. The unexplainable feeling of longing for someone so far away can also play tricks on your boomerang heart.
A natural high, whether safe or unsafe, can lead to a state of happiness. According to experts, euphoria or exhilaration accompanies certain achievements. Imagine being awakened by warm, manly hands on your body—instead of hearing him say, "I wish I were there" (?? is a plus. Long-distance relationships require a reality check, considering both time and distance.
Named for the God of War but trickster is your nature. Each year you bring the prospect of spring. Yet your deceit hides that promise under your cloak of white. I should know better, but you understand how much I need to believe your promises. Beware the Ides of March. Julius did not heed the warnings and you repaid his arrogance with the cold steel of betrayal. Now you say that you are the master of time and will move the sun to bring me another hour of light. But you’ve only robbed from the beginning to repay the end.
Take away from one
to give it to another
human reasoning
As we did the month preceding
This the next department meeting
Time and time without a reason
To be present or to listen
For there’s nothing on the floor
Beneath us different than before
It was the last time that we met
As everybody knows and yet
Again we sit around the table
Top our seats but still unable
To understand why we should read
Another memo from the Dean
Of students who have never met ‘em
Or her or maybe better, them
For whom the Chair is working under
Standing in the room, we wonder
How’d it ever get to this
Friday morning’s foolishness
Of faculty who should know better
Than to debate what doesn’t matter
That they’ll only misconstrue
The points they’re missing when they do
Interrupt each other speaking
Words better spent in classrooms teaching
in silence in to the deep dark night
a voice arises from within
you should : you should not
you are doing things so wrong
that little voice peak from nine to five
so much going on so much not for loosing hope
you couldn't find a little bit sleep
you couldn't believe how much it told you about yourself
you couldn't believe how quickly the drawing board has changed for you
PARANOIA that little voice FIGHTING
you before the light of day
let it go for something else await
let it go ask again where you from
you should know better than that little voice breaking down and trying to manipulate
there is so much more
sleep well tonight
Shook up shaking
the bigot tree
loose nuts crushing
they them me
crosses bashing
crosshair fit
I should know better
but I just can’t quit.
Dapper Dorothy pushes the envelope to the edge of the canyon
she should know better
being from a small town in the Midwest
Some of the meaner hicks say
She is trans someone whispers
What is that?
Pan? Tran? Slam? Sham?
Some of the relatives laugh
Not understanding how it feels
to be a little boy born in a girl’s body
To be sad every time he has to go to the girl’s side
Wearing panties when all he wants is boxers
There are no other trans in our town.of three hundred and two
Maybe and probably there have never been.
I look at Dapper Dorothy’s clothes and marvel
Glad he is finally honoring himself with beautiful men’s clothes
And then the snow came whispering
“Death to all fragile things in root!”
Brute force aided by ice ages legacy
Fall to the place where zeros go
To war zeros plunge far below barometers
March off with visions of marigolds immortality
In measure, conjuring up lost worlds
Like magicians who make things disappear
And into history things go missing
Prisoners of their own devices cry
Flowers should know better then to grow
In environments less hospitable than Earth
Frozen hell is no place to raise their young
Shivering becomes unworthy of a word
Temperatures like cold keep tumbling
Planets and plants know their depths
Which takes them to new lows
Conditions not worthy of them both
“And Now!” “Uproot yourselves!” “Come with me!”
There will be no soothing rain today
No season to remember geraniums
No reason to remain oblivious to oblivion
Asteroids could end things quickly
But snow keeps drifting on the lawn
Capturing a fragrance at the core
Flowers have no where to go
Pain awaits the frozen hour
Have you no shame?
Have you no dignity?
It is Winter just the same
Time to hold pretty flowers captive
And accountable for their actions
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