I am the warm embrace that breaks the chill,
The steady anchor when the waters rise,
I am the quiet peace that cures your ill,
The golden truth beneath untroubled skies.
I hold your trembling hand against the storm,
I guide your tired steps into the light,
To keep your fragile, weary spirit warm,
And watch you safely through the darkest night.
I am your faithful shield, your closest friend,
The heart that beats in rhythm with your own,
I promise I will guard you to the end,
So you will never have to walk alone.
Step closer now, and let me lock the door—
I am the surgeon, and you are on the floor.
Everything has a pause
Answers
Opinions
Anger
Sadness
Movements
And I realize now
Even in my spontaneity there’s clarity
I see before I think
I think before I act
However it doesn’t show it
A long one, a short one
I value it
It keeps the mind is suspense
After all no man likes to wait
It’s an itch in the brain
Some do not believe it in as I’ve said
They believe in the rush and fail to think further
The dread of not being ahead
The constant comparisons with strangers
Second guessing nature
I was once like that
Only now I’m learning
That it doesn’t stop growth
Only pushes it
Pause to me is Patience
To me its hope
I’m learning it
Maria’s kiss lit a fuse,
That Thomas never knew he had.
Now the fuse runs fast,
Through the heart of a man gone mad.
Derrick’s death was bitter,
And Thomas’ heart ran sour.
His head was quickly spinning,
As he drove for half an hour.
He made it to the plains,
Where he planned to drop them both,
But his fire turned to frost,
When he heard the cars approach.
“Where you going, stranger,
In such a mighty rush?”
The lawman rudely squinted,
Suspecting beer or drugs.
Thomas drew his Luger —
The officer fell quick.
He hit the cold, hard ground,
As Thomas’ blood ran thick.
Thomas missed the other pigs,
Who saw the nasty crime.
They blew through the windowpane,
And Thomas passed the line.
Nobody deserves death,
But those who play with life.
No one should lose that light,
Until god’s given time.
Raindrops in suspense
from the gutter’s edge hang
Indecisive clouds stalled, then whisked away
in fits and starts all day
An easel indoors clears her throat
When will she have her say
Impossible to catch my breath
waiting for the other shoe to drop
~ the suspense claiming another victim
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
An unclear image moved swiftly by
Briefly seen from the corner of my eye.
A rumbling upstairs made my heart pump,
Downstairs in the dark—thump, thump, thump.
This house suddenly seemed to come alive,
The chills enveloped, I pulled my blanket up high.
The movements and sounds—I just heard something fall,
I peeked from my blanket to see the bounce of a ball.
I slunk to the floor and crawled toward the door,
Silent and still, my heart pounding once more.
It just charged down the hall in a wild, playful race—
Then yipped with delight and licked my face!
My puppy at play in the dead of night,
Turns out the scare was no match for his bite.
I'm not insane.
I swear to God, I just wanted to help her.
To reach out and save her.
I grabbed her, to urge her to move.
That's when I recognized the terror on her face.
She was scared, just like me. I didn't like that.
Don't be scared.
I'm just trying to help.
"P-please...don't."
I sighed as she stammered out those words when I held her hand gently.
I know.
I'm not going to hurt you. Stop begging.
I hate it.
A few moments later, I calmed her down, hugging her body as I lulled her to sleep.
She must be so exhausted from all that running she did.
Poor little thing.
As I pulled her close, to warm her cold body, I felt a bit uncomfortable, as I felt something sharp against my chest.
So, I pulled the knife out of her heart and wiped off the blood.
She'll be able to relax now.
[b]5[/b]
The clock’s tick is a slow blade,
cutting through the silence,
fingers cold on metal chains—
it’s only minutes now,
my breath tearing through my chest.
[b]4[/b]
I can hear them—footsteps,
too close, too far,
scraping keys, rattling,
the air, thick—
I choke on it, wait.
[b]3[/b]
The light through the bars feels wrong,
like it’s burning me—
I can’t escape,
the walls closing in.
[b]2[/b]
The door cracks open,
a figure, a shadow,
they’re coming,
they’re coming for me.
[b]1[/b]
It’s time.
No, no, I tell you, no
Do not go down there,
Turn back from the door
Step away from the stair
I cannot tell you, I can't
The secrets and the lies,
Because... it's too... dreadful
When a pretty thing dies
Yes, she was a pretty thing
But, should you see her now,
All gone and gray and sunken
O, I could not tell you how ...
Don't look, please do not
Well, the door is open a bit,
Peer inside, dare if you must
Do so without my permit
But, o, the sun, she must set
And another day be done ...
Then up jumps the silver moon
Now ... isn't darkness fun!
Screech of owl with shrieking caterwauling
doesn’t startle me at all
until wings shroud the sky.
My blessed-courage takes cover real fast
as the rodent alongside’s
encroached on by talons.
The thick presence of the owl says don’t look,
turn a blind eye to his kill
as neck turns one slick eye.
He has no taste for human flesh except
if two legs gets in his way -
predatory suspense.
Boom! A thud echoes in the darkness, Voices call out to me,
Despite the cold and the night's chill, I'm drawn towards the mysterious sound.
A distant voice, I start to shake,
Is this for real or just a fake?
I step ahead, my heartbeat slow,
Not sure if I should dare to go.
“You scared me!” I shout in fear,
“No trespassing get out of here!”
Then comes a laugh from just one side,
A friend steps out, no place to hide.
“It’s just a prank,” they grin with glee,
But still, I feel unease in me.
The wind it howls, the branches sway,
And fear won’t seem to fade away.
Whispers taunt my mind,
Leaving unsettling thoughts behind.
On this moonless, stormy night,
Why play such games of fright,
When fear still lingers through the night.
He was a director by trade
With little or no pretense
And throughout the world he is known
As the master of suspense
Sounds of the audience screaming
Was the one thing that mattered
The crowd on the edge of their seats
Where hearts pittered and pattered
No matter which movie you see
His films will keep you sighing
Leaving hairs standing on your neck
And all your popcorn flying
So grab a ticket when you can
Let there be no distraction
Coming to a theater near you
Billed as the main attraction
In his weary hour
The legumes blossom on time;
Out of jocundity in honour
Of the beautiful turf
The drowsy peasant peak.
His weird blistered palm blimey,
His nasty regalia wretched,
He produces plenty and eats small
He produces good and eats bad
To the nobles he worked,
The dark noxious pest
Ravage and wrest
The peasant-shaddock
This tonic the dressy peasant
A nocturnal haunter.
This extempore task
Demoralizes his sinew
His swansong
Rhythmically envelops
In serenity and drone.
Each rising smoke
Nervous him to move.
This previous eyes
That know no peace
By the smiling scorching sun.
At the dark hour
He puts on his clogs
And marched to the farm shack
There he finds the beetles
On the yam.
The great anxiety of the peasant
Is the bragging fire of winter
He fasted to lull it
He became gaunt
The sturdy peasant.
The time unknown: the blazing fire
Burnt the bedecked bower
The ranch house and the lettuce
Barefooted staggered him
To the farm with his straw hat
And met the yelling ashes
The cracking twigs of cocoa plant
The peasant live no day
Longer than that and slept
We were both going to college.
Science class is where we both met,
I was astonished at his knowledge.
My thoughts of him more than friends,
as some girls eyed him with his letter-man sweatshirt.
He was tall and looked so handsome.
When the day's classes were over,
he would walk me to my car.
Sweet dreams of him I yearn to be my lover.
He had a way of setting a forbidden fire within,
soft and warm, revealing beauty that lived
a resting place of a pure soul of sin.
He would press his head upon my neck
And would whisper," Would you."
Time ticked away, a kiss he would peck.
Just one little word, that's all I needed.
The prolonged suspense had taken its toll.
My words were heated as, “No!” I pleaded.
3/10/2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 35 Poetry Contest 2. Prolonged Suspense
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
The morning fog obscures, ironic in a sense,
as water particles are likewise in suspense;
muffling all sound, they coalesce in self-defense,
uncertain of their fate when sunshine does commence.
—————
An Awit: 12a:12a:12a:12a
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