I imagine you — swirling, light, carried by every wind.
A playful breeze brushes your hair and your body.
A butterfly dissolving into air, like time slipping away.
A gentle dove becoming a fairy made just for me.
Choosing a star in the silence of the night,
My heart races only for you.
Giving it your name, a baptism of life,
Naming that spark and standing speechless.
I know, I know — Love is always something we build.
Let’s be inventive, so it never becomes ordinary.
Let’s love in the plural, together, to shape tomorrow.
I know, I know — night suspends time.
Softly, tenderly, I return to you.
I run beneath this sky of a thousand lights,
Carry my heart high into the firmament.
Not a word — I offer you my hand.
Joël Charvillat
infant twilight suspends noise
around quiescent waters
stars glint nocturnal shallows
frog chants reverberate
August 5, 2026
Let's Do It Poetry Contest
Nette OnClaud, Sponsor
Silence falls so deep
even clocks forget their ticks—
breaths cup the moment
between one thought and the next
time slips and loosens its grip.
In complete darkness—
no landmarks are left to trace
how moments should pass.
In the blind stillness of night
time wanders off aimlessly.
When laughter erupts—
time scatters like startled birds
joy suspends the hours
ticks 'n tocks flock mute in clocks
time loses count of itself.
Time loses its sway
in darkness, silence, laughter
it has no context—
no marker to start or end
it's left hanging at wits end.
In the hush of night, your breath is a spark,
A gentle fire tracing the edges of the dark.
Fingers like ink, writing secrets on skin,
Where surrender and power quietly begin.
Lips brush like petals soft, then searing
A dance of longing, tender yet daring.
Pleasure flows, a river that bends,
Yet hides the currents where caution suspends.
The body speaks in truths unspoken,
In warmth and ache, hearts are broken.
Ecstasy blooms, fierce and bright,
Yet shadows linger beyond the light.
Each sigh a promise, each glance a dare,
The joy of giving, the risk of despair.
In this closeness, we find, and we lose,
The sweet and the bitter, entwined in one muse.
So taste the fire, but heed the smoke,
Desire is song, but also a cloak.
For in the night, both pleasure and pain
Whisper the lessons we cannot feign.
Your wishes- good life
For grace to flee... every strife
Makes money so rife.
From heaven's real joy:
What earth duly plays a toy...
Can't stop your way, boy.
Your days full of stress,
Blessings host to fortune's mess;
Earth's depth can't oppress.
Your gladdened heart blends...
Beyond the doubt of fake friends,
Mere silence suspends.
Rejoice, earthly lad...
For what vanity makes glad;
Death shades cum life's tad.
The pond is thick with summer sleep,
Where secrets hide and water’s deep.
Three shadows on the muddy bank,
Their dangled legs and toy rock tank.
They do not speak, they do not stir,
Just watchers of the speechless burr
Of bobbers dancing, red and white,
In golden shades of fading light.
A jar of worms, a broken rod,
Boys barefoot peace, their quiet god.
The air is heavy, humming, still,
As time suspends beneath the hill.
They do not hunt for a big prize,
But stare with narrow, amber eyes,
Just waiting for the line to jerk,
To catch the magic, not the work.
When fireflies blink their green-lit code,
They walk the dusty country road.
Empty pails, but their spirits light,
Having to catch the edge of night.
The water settles, black as ink,
On the edge of dreams, on the brink.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the night exhales~
a slow, silver breath
etching itself onto glass.
morning presses close,
a blurred thumbprint
of gold.
between them,
the world suspends~
half ice, half fire,
whispering: Wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We stand balanced
on the razor’s edge,
one foot in December’s
fading breath,
the other testing
January’s untrodden frost.
Midnight suspends us~
neither here
nor there,
a hopeful breath
held between chapters.
Then gravity wins, as it must.
We step forward,
not because we are ready,
but because the line
was never ours to keep.
The lustrous perfume bottle
avec neck spritzer and bottom caudal
With hexing brio it holds her captive
Pure rapture is sexually attractive
A woman’s torso a glass statuette
dressed in a golden chic corset
An old hippy scarf suspends on the wall
Her ‘Eau De Joy’ is kitschy after all
Shimmies into mid-calf western boots
She rifles through sequined body suits
Last touches of an aromatic scent
she deems the fragrance extravagant
Lurid lemon zest smacks of old school
Blithely vivacious leads them a drool
Juicy sweet notes from cleavage to chin
A whirlwind of hazy mist he’s in
Wild at heart with beats that throttle
A burning desire from a perfume bottle
Amidst thy grassy sea,
Stands a lone cottonwood tree.
A man of red–
His many feathers
Scatter like dust–
Away in the wind.
Amidst thy cottonwood tree,
Lies a man who once was free.
A man of blue–
My musket, aflush
A sacred scarlet–
Stricken with iron.
‘Thy brother’s blood crieth unto me.’
My blank canvas,
Suspends in time–
For I – I
Hath begotten flames–
Unto this rich plain
Of gold.
My brother in red–
He is dead–
And my sin hath killed him.
In shaking tears,
I run out into the sky–
Chasing his feathers.
A bell tolls — with a single chime.
Igniting the spell of dawn’s regret.
It halts the breath, suspends all time,
Foreboding with threats you can't forget.
You flinch—one foot on the stepping stone,
The wind's first touch scalds your face.
Just one finger grips your hand alone.
You wait for relief from bell’s disgrace.
The silence palls where echoes die—
The ring bell toll fades with no reply.
There's no sign, no sound, no reason why,
You're left here dangling from the sky.
A bird attempts one fragile note.
Bashful in the spelled applause.
The breeze catches breath in its throat.
Afraid to continue through the pause.
You toll the haunt of some unspoken spell,
A pact with ghosts to stop the feeling.
While winds and seas rise on the swell,
Sending your hopeful plans reeling.
A lone bell tolls—no one answers now.
So old scars and doubts take the blame.
For dismembered memories you can’t avow.
In the flinching cringe that has no name.
Pause, consider, and think about this.
Some rich people invest and spend.
Some poor people wish and spend.
Short people reach up.
Tall people bend down.
Good habits beget good results.
Bad habits render bad results.
Bad beginnings often end well.
Bad endings force 'look-backs'.
You cannot withdraw something
that has not been deposited.
We usually reap what we have sown.
Sometimes, favor suspends the norm.
8888888888888888888888888888888888
When adding it all up,
At the end of the day,
I'd rather be home with
A happy wife and 500 miles
Removed from disappointed
Siblings, rather than being alienated
From a pouting, unhappy wife, while
Enjoying happy, celebrating siblings.
Stop, meditate, and muse about that.
072625cj
“In the fall, I believe again in poetry...”
— Jaakko A. Ahokas
When September comes through heated breezes,
sunflowers watch droll dragonflies duet
to tunes of melodic taunts and teases
of Autumn's promise to pay Summer's debt.
A bright season greets us without regret.
Behind is buried under yesterday
and tomorrow is waiting for its say.
Joyful is this moment in Nature's arms
when time suspends until it finds its way
and ripe Autumn casts its bountiful charms.
Green waters circumscribe an island’s pallid face,
Hexagons of light, scattered jewels on the waves.
Earthly hues, against litharge seas, shimmering gleam;
Albatross wings glide, an immaculate blue dream.
The scene suspends time, and worldly cares release -
A whisper for the human eye, a quiet aurora’s peace.
We dream of silence, pure and still,
A space where noise suspends its trill.
Yet in the void, a whisper still, hums,
For silence never ever truly comes.
In quietude, a heartbeat strums,
The pulse of life forever thrums.
Into such stillness, wily wind whistles will creep,
And drips of drops through cracks will seep.
The breaths we take, the sighs we weave,
The quest for silence, they do deceive.
A distant echo, a memory foretold,
Reminds us that silence can’t take hold.
For even when the world’s at rest,
The heart still beats within our chest.
And the mind speaks in words unheard
Mimicking sounds, quelled and deferred.
Even ears when dead and deaf to sounds,
Make it up, when tinnitus abounds.
For quietude can never ever be true.
For its cause is lost in solitude's glue.
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