“Alive” is just thunder in your bones.
Like you died except there’s some sense that I could blink if I needed to.
This type of delusion makes mustard seem tasty by the bottle.
I’m dead.
For some reason.
When you’re dead for a few weeks?
You don’t feel much.
Or ask much.
“Alive” is a type of gimmick.
While “dead” is a lazy lunch on the patio.
Throwing away your elbow grease.
I’ll never fix the leaky faucet again.
That’s what “dead” does to you.
I am a true rebel- for I question
the words of my catholic rigid rules.
And will rise up to claim my self-expression,
keeping the parts that are like precious jewels.
Spiritual freedom is my obsession . . .
I do not want to be like the mindless ghouls.
Forces of desiring things creates aversion,
and pushing these things away creates diversion.
So, I let go of all useless craving
and let go of the resistance and fears.
Stop the beliefs like old etched engraving,
I hang from stars that seem a chandelier.
Don't obey all the catholic ravings,
but hold what I consider to be dear.
Through meditation my focus is unbroken,
and I can hear my spiritual voice spoken.
I turn away from any cult-like faith
throwing away all the rigid mindset.
Discard all the bible verses that saith,
to find my inner song- I press reset.
I will seek a journey to interfaith,
and hum to my internal clarinet.
I am placing all those old teachings on a shelf,
to begin an amazing journey to myself.
I tackled a project I’ve avoided for a year
creepy hiding mice was my fear.
I never take on a project in a teensy, tiny toe-tasting way
As expected, after getting started, this took most of my day
I would love to say that I was able to conquer the entire pile
Lying about this would be easy to see by my crooked smile
I was inspired by the progress to think about taking it on again tomorrow
It is less daunting now, does not bring me half as much sorrow
Thinking of the disgust of my children if I were to unexpectedly die
Kept me throwing away junk until my trash pile hit the sky
I raised one neatnik and two hoarder daughters with piles of their own
I have already lost three dogs and a cat, this mess has way overgrown
Also inspiring me was the fact that my retirement can be a bore.
Watching TV in a recliner means my slippered feet rarely hit the floor
I wanted a project, something new and different to do.
Sorting out this junk and throwing was long overdue.
Through the plains and valleys they creep,
Throwing away their lives for man’s desire.
With death and hope in tow,
They carry the burdens of countless nations,
Believing in something so far away —
Be it the freedom that evil holds hostage
Or the greed of a single man.
And still they battle in those treacherous lands,
An anguished, silent cry as they wish for their loved ones
Far away in their homelands, waiting for them,
Singing prayers and praises in their stead.
Calloused hands that were beyond wear and tear,
And weapons imbued with the strength, blood, and tears.
The fallen lay, blessed by God,
While the others hide from His wrath.
But all shall be in vain, for His eyes still watch us from afar,
And they shall all beg for Him when the time comes.
When they know that they shall fail,
They speak with pitiful remorse about their lives:
“May the good God bless us through this war.”
By Jahnavi raj
we need a truck I tell my man
dumpster, shovel, and garbage can
to haul what? he asks suspiciously
proof positive that he knows me
I like to haul, it is what I do
tossing debris like one old left shoe
annually throwing away mood stamps out my brain
better bring a huge dump truck and maybe a crane
It’s a heartbroken person
Permanently sad
The dark thoughts worsen
They’ll drive you mad
It’s a million different colors
They blend together as one
You can’t explain to the others
So you give up and run
It’s nowhere and everywhere
You can’t ever break free
The world you saw once was rare
Now you’re waiting for the right time to flee
It’s complex and never ending
Leaving you broken and damaged
honest and real but always pretending
Taking in more, but it can manage
It’s a knife to your throat
An unspoken but ever present danger
Drowning in sorrows, trying to stay afloat
Someone pushing you in, an eerie stranger
It’s an everlasting promise
A whisper in the dark
Staying up late watching for comets
By yourself at the park
It’s suffocating claustrophobia
Locking you up and throwing away the key
The deep and hollow melancholia
Is all you’ll ever be
i'm still at the same place
sitting by the same old lamp
where we penned
a tale, a poem, a song for the ages
while listening to same old music
in void of your voice
and the letters you used to fly
from your place
i'm wishing on every star
for a force to come by and tell me
is it over or is it an illusion?
my mind is my graveyard
a death place of my happiness
that keep stabbing daggers
by bringing back memories
i looked up your name
not once, twice or thrice
but thousands of time
with my each cry
i see you're doing good
by locking me in a cage
and throwing away in the sea with the key
leaving me to drown and die
crisscrossing parallel universes
by some freak of nature
teeter tottering tumbling
to one side then to the other
in one world her home
Julia is unbearably lonely
a devastated grieving widow
inconsolable since her tragic loss
one day she crosses over to the other side
walking into a parallel world where
all is the same but for the accident
and her marriage never cut short
like a curious puzzle she puts pieces together
understanding that in this new world
she is squandering her treasure
taking for granted the man of her life
throwing away in one world the same prize
desperately grieved in the other
how will she balance the two worlds ~
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
(inspired by 1988 movie 'Julia and Julia' starring Kathleen Turner)
Edna lived with three cats and four dogs
In hovel that would disgust rats
Both her children moved away forty years ago
They did not visit; glad to escape a hoarder house.
She and her pets lived among piles upon piles of junk.
Their paths uneven, on cracker boxes and caps of milk jugs.
They gingerly walked over the rubble to get to their cozy corners.
Edna had a tv, at the end of one of the alleys, across from a couch.
She and the dogs sat on the couch; the cats sat everywhere else.
Edna had stopped throwing away trash years ago, adding it to her piles.
The smell of this home would be unbearable to most.
To her and her pets, it was the scent of home.
They were comfortable here.
I am not sure where to go first
I have not taken much
just what I could fit into two backpacks
One of them gets heavy
I sit down on a park bench and sort them out
throwing away ten things I thought I needed
because this is day three
and I am tired of carrying two backpacks
I have not asked anyone for help
because I do not know how to do that
and it would feel awful
so far I have just raided dumpsters at night
after regular people are asleep
I become active
searching for half eaten sandwiches
hoping the bugs have not gotten in them yet
Every year on Valentine's Day
I never conform to the pressure
of throwing away hundreds of dollars
like a drunken master
on boxes of coconut chocolates
dozens of red roses
white stuffed bears
carbonated heart balloons
and chicken in the bag snacks
with glass bottles of blue Mist
instead I would rather
sit at home and craft poems
a surprise gift from the bottom
of my heart of Leprechauns gold
embodying the authentic love
I possess for everyone in my life
like the words and verses
in the Songs of Solomon
and cannot be solicited
by currency of any shape or form
Written: December 17, 2023
__________________________________________
With progression of time
rebirth of a fresh leaf
It's time to ponder.
among all forthcoming
In oblivion
Filling nefarious blanks
with lyrical creation
of paradox and myth.
Setting aside the years.
setting aside the fears.
throwing away melancholy
plethora of lonesome nights.
Spreading luminescent wings
as a newly-emerged butterfly
It burst out of a faint, sanguine cocoon.
boarding their final trip of a lifetime
between dream-scapes.
Writing her secrets on her computer thinking of everything in her mind. Reminding her hidden truth in her soul; wishing no one knew them. Throwing away her notebooks in the trash. All her hidden life just lying there. She lights a match to make it all go away. So they won't hurt her anymore. As the black smoke goes into the air all there is left are burning secrets.
I’m dreaming with my eyes of faith,
Godly dreams hope you’ll see.
My dreams backed with God’s promises,
‘New Earth’ … for you and me.
New when God’s will, “on earth is done,”
for years heard people pray.?
On beautiful earth we call home,
God’s Kingdom … will hold sway.
Christ is King of God’s Kingdom, all
authority received.
In heaven, and right here below,
on earth … no one will grieve.
Dream of throwing away wheelchairs,
our walkers, our canes too.
Isaiah wrote that we’ll leap about,
just as we’ve seen …deer do
.
Our friends who’ve lost their sight, observe
at last see me and you.
Show them, won’t need try explain
the pretty color … blue.
Years dreamed of God’s promised blessings,
God’s Paradise soon here.
Hope you’ll dream through your eyes of faith,
God’s will on earth … is near.
going back forwards
step up to sit down
laughing with a frown
being lost to be found
outsmarting em by being dumb
wishing for wishes but never wishing one
playing the lottery for a retirement plan
spend all your life working for the man
smile while you cry
using the truth as a lie
wanting more but doing less
always hoping for the best
banging on the door to get outside
rolling on the floor trying to fly
throwing away the lottery ticket before you scratch
bury your money to grow quick cash
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