Anguish is made of thunder today.
Ate me up like an X-ray.
Spit me out like trash you can chew.
Is there anything brains can’t do?
If this poisonous grip could let me go.
I could be a magician, I know.
But antidotes don’t exist these days.
Everything is tied up in delays.
I think my possessions let me behind.
I think it was my old bedroom who signed.
It started when my bedroom got sick of me.
Couldn’t tie me to a tree.
No, it’s never you leaving your stuff back there.
And yeah, I snuck in delusions in my hair.
The song changes
as soon as I set it down
Catching a tune
that snuck in with the breeze
Sid now realized her suit was all wrong
but she'd hid in this stall for too long
So, she stuck out her gut
to distract from her butt
and snuck back to the pool in her thong
Welcome to my patio jungle.
Nature has snuck up quietly taking over.
Rain or shine life abounds.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I snuck into the party with an ID hastily made
and stumbled, out of step, into the poetry parade.
In this beautiful country club, I'm surrounded by my betters.
I wave my kindergarten rhymes to show the men of letters.
In the echo of the learned men who came this way before me
I hear the patterned minuets, that if followed, lead to glory.
I chafe in those traveled ruts and I long for something varied
and I hope to spark a unique verse, between school and the cemetery.
.
.
A song for this:
Time by Tom Waits
Oh, an epitome of creativity, eccentric yet pure
Hair shaped like the bowls I snuck into my room
That way I could eat and listen to each new song
My life went on, yet his was burnt to ashes
Hadn't outgrow the younger me who needed an idol
My life will go on, I will grow to have more euphoric moments
Yet the remainder life is in hands of dear old Rio
Will I ignite the flames which hold the memories?
Or will the youthful version of me frown in the back of my head?
There once was a lad with a spray,
Who snuck out at the end of the day.
On a house near the park
He scrawled in the dark,
the words “Ur gay” for Vinnie to bark
In a wintry hollow, atop Mount Crumpit, dwelled Max and The Grinch,
A dog and his master of mischief, whose heart measured an inch,
And beared a soul of zero dimensions, tented by a teardrop physique,
The villainous Who who'd snuck away with Christmas to his frosty peak.
Winter came into my house,
Snuck under my door,
Begged me for a meal, like a hungry mouse.
It began to paint windows
With the strokes of snowy white,
And softly kissed the tip of me,
With cold, familiar bite.
I've been waiting for the longest
For this dream to come true -
And now it's finally here at last,
For me to share with you.
(30.4.75: the USA abandons its ally, South Vietnam:
Darwin Judge is the last American to die in Saigon)
Don't ever tell me this was dignified.
I never want to hear of heads held high,
of brothers-in-arms, or marching out with pride.
Just take the pain. It's how it was. Don't lie.
On Wednesday April thirtieth, we ran.
We scurried from the post we should defend,
abandoning the flag, the 'wife', the plan.
We scrambled out, and didn't take our friends.
They washed up all around us, thick as kelp.
To linger here was worse than death. They knew.
Whom else but us could they beseech for help?
We climbed aboard without them. Off we flew.
"White Christmas" played bizarrely, over again,
and big white guys with guns backed from the line
where squatted cooks and cleaners, handymen.
Our time had come to go. This was the sign.
We were their only hope. But, on the sly,
(John Wayne we weren't. Not even Dennis Hopper.)
so no-one would wise up, we - Semper Fi -
snuck sheepishly aboard the final chopper.
Santè, Seloana.
Sweet, gentle Seloana.
You brought forth a promise of perspective, fresh and clear.
You brought the company dreamt of by many; a sense of home.
You brought vulnerability and a tough as soft as the heavens.
An otherworldly being, you are. Undeniably, so.
“Perhaps a hint of heaven itself..”
i whisper to myself, running the risk of enchanting myself if i were to say that name.
tous les mêmes, tous les mêmes.
Soulful, serendipitous Seloana,
Some may ponder the type of effect you could have on a being.
So few are lucky enough to have an answer.
Something I am honoured to say is true.
Swiftly as inhumanly possible,
you snuck me in.
Pas de faux semblants ici.
Home. Seloana est à la maison
Seloana, mi amor
mon âme aime to âme
~r.a
Stay off the roads today
Grandma's managed to find the car keys
~ She snuck out mid nap !
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 1st place 2025
i'm supposed to turn nineteen soon
which is crazy because in my mind
i wouldn't ever be alive at that age
it's crazy how fast time goes
how quickly this age snuck up on me
i'm still not sure if i want to make it
i have things afterwards i'd be sad to miss
but i'll be sad if i keep going too
the sadness only grows each day
reminding me of the impending doom
less than a month away
the thought of it is so scary
it seems like such a big age
in retrospect it might not seem like much
but to someone who expected
to never make it this long
turning nineteen is bigger than normal
It was after midnight,
when he slipped out of bed,
careful not to disturb,
the trailing streamers
of dreamers in la la land.
The house held its breath warm—
willing all within its walls
to stay asleep; not be stirred.
The creaks of timber stairs
were never heard, never slurred,
to blurt out their secrets and
break the stark, thin, brittle hush of night.
As he snuck into the kitchen,
the night light came on,
saving a bare-foot snub.
As he stooped to open the fridge,
he saw the note she left on the door,
from the day before, saying:
“I forgot to tell you the milk's a little off.”
He smiled at the crooked charm of the message,
feeling a ghost in the whispered warning.
Fed the milk to the cat.
It purred with delight.
Sometimes he thought, such tiny phrases,
slip in before they're noticed,
curdle before you taste them.
Only to slink away with a sting in their tale.
With that, he nodded and returned.
The fridge door slammed itself shut.
He wandered back to bed, on tiptoe, making no sound.
He left the light night burning,
for the shadows that rose on the landing,
and for the cat.
Both slunk away, back to bed.
A couple soon to be said newly wed,
yet swiftly snuck behind the family’s back
to swear the vow inside th’old shack,
quick forgot’n, buried a secret dread;
A reek awaftin’ out a country shed
left long and fast behind by Spring-heeled Jack,
the stench o’ rot stinkin’ from a sack
discovers a soiled corpse ‘n’a mangled head;
Well…, they ‘was a murder in the red barn,
an absence none—nor husband—could explain,
’til—guess,—what befell the fair lady’s kin?:
’twas a strange dream th’unwound the twisted yarn.
On that farm, packed ‘nside a sack o’ grain,
a body lay stuffed deep down ’n’a storage bin—
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