The tabby sits back with his cigarette,
smoke curling like a lazy question
over the white cat stretched on a pillow.
He taps his Injecta pen,
studying her pale tail, her unmarked back,
as if imagining stripes is half the art.
Some identities are borrowed, he thinks,
a little ink, a little imitation~
nothing too serious, just a soft suggestion
of who we might become.
He draws slow lines,
letting his own bold markings guide him,
letting admiration slip into mimicry
the way cats copy each other’s confidence.
The white cat doesn’t mind.
She purrs at the attention,
at the small reinvention blooming on her fur,
at the notion that change can be chosen
or simply offered by someone
who believes nature can be nudged.
He leans back, his cigarette glowing,
and wonders if every creature
carries a stripe or two
inked by someone else~
or added just for fun.
There once was a lass from Kalamazoo
Who got a massive Mickey Mouse tattoo
'Twas inked on her wee fanny
When she became a granny
It sagged looking more like Winnie The Pooh
An ink butterfly on her chest
Right between Lady Right and Lady Left
Half the parlour was in awe when she undid her shirt
They, like me, marveled at their grace
They ought to be real cause only God can make something that makes all men stop and stare
I envy my own babe, nursing peacefully on your chest,
When it comes to the Girls I just don't want to share.
I am a selfish man.
butterfly buddha
the lotus flower revered ~
she wears external
TRIBAL TATTOO REGRET-:-
permanent
geometrical
monumentum
intertwining
symbols
inked FLUIDITY ETCHINGS
emblazoned
Tebori
linework
scarifying
pigment
in ZIGZAGGING ALTERNITIVES
patternization
timeless
unwanted
laser
removal
You make my day with
white words you say
I wear your handwriting
As if you decide my fate
I’m hopelessly in love
With you life is an adventure
My red heart like an arrow
Shot across blue skies
Where a sparrow flies
You send me to the moon
And I swoon at your feet
What’s even better is
You’re clever to also love me
Despite my cheekiness
I enjoy our little chats
And even our spats
Relationship dips into our souls
We make love like doves
In a sky of vivid rainbows
I wear your handwriting
In my womb where children bloom
A product of our union
Each breath I take feels
Like I’m drowning in a lake
Of love but you save me
With a chocolate kiss
Full of air light and bliss
I wear your handwriting
In my red heart of art
Bleeding poetic psalms
Beating dancing like star
Bringing joyful light where
Once was black dark
With the slightest kiss
Creating kinetic spark
I tattoo your spirit
With blue ink of my heart
Wear my handwriting
Whether near me or far
Bonded by chemistry
Cherish our unity
Love forever bonding
She smiles as bride of gloom
Gothic style floats her balloon
Young and eccentric
Taste was accented
Black roses tattoo on the groom
I’m a big sun aficionado.
Get my tattoos any way I can.
All relaxation and no pain.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Type of lace
Accentuating fine attire or
Tattoos accessorizing skin
Think ink, permanently needled into flesh; tainT
Absolute with no quick absolution; twO
Together forever - will you be happy with your tattoO
A tattoo that may have been from youth
Could be of a religious reference too
How horrific it would feel you would be blue
Torn from your life family country rights refused
Some may accuse you of being in a gang
Yet KKK and Proud Boys are the very same
Not any of them are arrested put in chains
Double standards are free falling like rain
On her front and back pair of wings are found many a natural tattoo
like inkblots, they form perfect mirror images, that you love to view
Her lifting of wings in a figure-eight pattern, our spirits it does renew
Trying to please the onlookers, she forgets the pains she goes through
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Keeps me focused
Keeps me grounded
Keeps me present
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Takes me farther and farther away
From everything I have ever known
Chained up like a worthless dog
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Reminds me that rebellion
Always comes at a price
You just have to decide if it’s worth the prize
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Tells me that my fight is far from over
The war not nearly won
Whether I’m protesting from my backyard or someone else’s overseas
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Fills my heart with pity
Pity for a society
Too at peace with being alive but not really living
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Makes my whole body tingle
My life sentence stinging and burning
As we near my new home
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Makes me hope
That the words scribbled on my torso
Inspire others to likewise pick up their pens
I am told it is mightier than the sword
The sound of wheels on tarmac
Places courage in my veins
A man who has lost his freedom
Has no more to lose than himself
The sound of wheels on murram
Tells me we've arrived
Something fell out of my head,
a notion perhaps,
I think I have birthed a tattoo
a tat of a Beef Prime Rib.
I like beef not ham.
A slim lady
had a small butterfly
tattooed onto her thigh
years went by,
she ballooned out,
her flimsy butterfly
now looks more like a Pterodactyl.
My tattoo is now fully formed -
clearly, it's a depiction
of a ham bone!
If that tattoo grows any bigger
it's going to resemble
a hog on a log.
Though opposed by federal court
Trump’s sport-like media report
Features flights at night
With head-shaven blight
And the hog-walked men we deport
What slave asks for anything more
Than a rave in El Salvador?
With expenses paid
In dirt they’ll get laid
While six million bucks pays our whore
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