Like a programmed robot
I move through each day
Smiling and nodding
In just the right way.
Pretending I'm happy
And life is just great
When the truth of the matter is
There's just too much on my plate.
I feel like I got cheated
Out of living a good life
I'm poor and alone
And I'll never be anyone's wife.
I'm like that lone shoe
You see lying on the road
Alone and discarded
Like an unwanted load.
People pass by me
Staring with pity
Torn and tattered
Not an ounce of pretty.
The shadows in my eyes
Portray a battle lost
Nightmares and insomnia
Show surrender’s cost.
The physical scars
Have healed without a trace
But the mental emotions
Are still written in my face.
I'm a programmed robot
Struggling each day
Trying to hold my head up
And wishing I could fade away.
All the dishes fell down broken
Favorite cups, you won’t believe
Smashed to bits, but it’s unspoken
Myths don’t mention human grief
They don’t want us to come close
Private troubles doesn’t count
If you ask, nobody knows
What was their crime about
The collective guilt is fake
There is no such thing on earth
Otherwise we’re God’s mistake
From the accident of birth
Trevelyan, a sole survivor
Is the one we should remember
See the picture of white rider
On eleventh of November
Of one thousand ninety nine
He escaped the great excess
Of the punishment, confined
To the Land of Lyonesse
Then the plot disintergrates
To the pieces that don’t fit
Well together, so it fades
To the dishes crashed in bits..
I'm standing here
I'm a survivor
alive
your power over me
means nothing
Dull autumn day.
An exhausted
white cabbage moth,
probably the last survivor
of the season,
settles on a yellow leaf.
There is a sadness
in its solitude.
Yet pity is paused
when it causes
me to suddenly think
of a dob of whipped cream
on a custard tart
accompanied
by a cappuccino
at the local cafe.
Out of the smoke that billowed out of the flattened building,
horror was everywhere. Grief stricken, our teacher ordered the few survivors to the prayer building,
but I chose to run away, to my home only a few blocks away,
too shocked to cry, in complete disbelief, lost for a word, when my mother rushed outside and held me tight in her arms, visibly shaken. She took me inside and splashed water on my face, as if to make sure i was not a living dead, then she told me to rest and stay indoor with all the commotion outside, then ran back to school to help, was hit by the second bomb and never came back.
I was asleep now I’m awake
Had a bad dream about rape
Im okay it wasn’t real
But it hasn’t happened in so many years
I’m a survivor of incest
I forgave dad not upset
I write now just to sift
Bad from past let soul lift
Up others who say get over it
We do you know but the brain plays tricks
We can be triggered even if well
So we get it out when we tell
I am a survivor till I’m dead
I am a survivor survivor I said
Untitled
And the wind
tastes so bitter
And the rain
washes away the memory
And you there with oblivious words
Fade away with the storm
I thought you were my prince
Come to save my heart
To change my life
And become my missing part.
But you took my dreams
And tore them apart
You shredded my existence
Right from the start.
I was too blind to see
That you really didn't care
I sacrificed my pride
For your lying snair.
I walked away
With a broken heart
Wondering what I did wrong
To deserve your violent dart.
I learned the hard way
I was too good for you
And I never looked back
When I said we were through.
I have since moved on
And I've buried the past
Facing the shadows
Your abuse has cast.
The healing never ends
When abuse tears you apart
But the freedom you embrace
Is a peaceful start.
A Survivor
Continuity, Eduring by living
Day to day. Attempting to Survive.
Destination to Flourish, Thrive and
Progress lastiness.
Despite adversity and the aftermath
Of hardship.
Pain can't cancel purpose.
Silence has never protected a Survivor.
Speak Up.
Void is the life that many do live.
Incessant are the voices shouting.
Calamity rains down in daily affairs.
Totality, existence, is lent to the man.
Idolatry, sexism, persecution runs deep.
Memories recoil and replay to displace healing.
Two narratives juxtaposed between breaths.
One a victim, the other, survivor.
Sentiments aren't toward recovery today.
Underneath the toxicity, one can though, still find solace.
Reviving past culture, living simply, within one's means.
Voicing concerns conscientiously.
Inciting positive change through law.
Venting with righteous anger to bring peace.
Obeying routine, structure and discipline.
Recovery is possible; so become the change you long to see.
01.06.2026
(A poem a day)
Dahlias and petunias in bloom
A tired garden glows in early october
~ last rays of sun bestowed
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
The day rises again over my bitterness.
The birds have not yet begun to sing,
I am already angry,
still in a bad mood despite financial security.
At the slightest provocation, I know I’ll end up handcuffed in a prison van.
I’m afraid I’ll eventually break.
I am not afraid of dying, but of living.
I come from hell and walk upon a hostile land.
I am full of rage: the human species does not deserve this generous planet.
Once, I had gloved hands and a hooded face,
a Kalashnikov under the bed and the windows always sealed.
Today, I am far removed from the illicit,
with my scars, my skills, and my convictions.
I know how to get rich quickly,
and I am aware of the consequences of my actions.
I live with my nightmares and my regrets.
bruises scars and stretch marks
the sum total of diverse past experiences
~ I am strength and stamina
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
cancer survivor
loving the word remission
temporary joy
When time splits in two...
One you're looking for and one looking for you
You're waiting for someone you don't know yet
And you're not getting any younger
You've captured the rhyme but lost the poetry
The road seems bleak but familiar
A refugee from the you you used to be
And a pilgrim on the road to destiny
To fortify you resupply with fortitude and grace
But what persists you can't deny with force of will or face
The path may be familiar, but the route could not be more complex
When time splits in two... the division is in you
Nonetheless the test is not the journey, it's the end
And a smile is your only friend
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