siblings of passion ~ Love and Hate
argue like unruly children
in precipitous conflict
yet, never will the nest empty, because
they...are OUR conscience
~ one cannot destroy the other,
nor ignore the other, because
they are of one blood
whose greatest toxin is
indifference...
so...torn asunder, they must find
a way to make two ~ one...
It pains me to remember.
You might not have your full faculties.
Your words still cut deep.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2026
If I’d ever see anything more poetic.
I peak here, I think to myself,
my stride hastening unconsciously
as my eyes follow the path of the page,
as if I could make out the scripture,
knowing good and well Sunday school
was the only school I wasn’t the top of my class.
I thought it followed me
all the way to the crêpe shop—
come to find out
there are more than one.
The sky rains Bible pages down on me,
no longer do I have to focus to see
John,
Matthew,
hell even Ruth’s here.
The absurdity of the situation
would make you believe I’m embellishing.
i’m not.
It’s just a sign I refuse to acknowledge
And as a poet,
I'm inclined to write.
Was worthy and reputed,
Was needed and recruited;
Was fresh and secluded,
UNTIL I WAS TORN OUT, NOW CRUMPLED AND WORN OUT!
It came and wrote out on me,
I was open and letting it see,
It scrambled on me with feel of hate,
but I didn't know its name was fate.
Was hoping and curious,
Was creative and serious,
Was fire and genius,
UNTIL I WAS TORN OUT, NOW CRUMPLED AND WORN OUT!
It dim the light of my eyes first,
Then slowly made my emotions burst,
It made me question my sanity,
I was completely stripped of my dignity.
Was sobbing and pleading,
Was crying and bleeding,
Was mourning and seething,
UNTIL I WAS TORN OUT, NOW CRUMPLED AND WORN OUT!
Now I was all covered in ink,
That brutal doesn't even blink.
I broke and shattered bit by bit,
Then it tore me and opened the slit.
Now shivering but healing,
Now fearing but sealing,
Now ended but... still feeling.
BECAUSE I WAS TORN OUT, NOW CRUMPLED AND WORN OUT!
I am not attached to the book anymore,
Though shaken to the deepest core.
It thinks it ruined me by tearing me,
But it doesn't know, that just made me free.
Because,
I WAS TORN OUT,
Just wait till, again I sprout...
I suddenly realize
that the torn wing
of a a yellow-tailed butterfly
breaks my heart.
It happens
every time I see one.
Stronger flying things heal
and survive the spring,
and hopefully, the fall.
Just maybe, the ever-relentless
Godfather: winter will stop
his monologuing.
I will move you to the
soft grass
where no one will crush
your delicate, dying beauty.
A life flew by
after I sat down
and saw you die.
There is balance, even in death,
and so much to admire
in the life and contoured colors
of today.
One hundred words isn’t enough
to celebrate a life, however little.
You are my fading beauty,
You are my dying queen.
When I stand at the altar tomorrow,
My heart will be torn in two.
I love her, of course I do
And she loves me I know.
We’ll pledge to be faithful
Until death do us part.
We’ll raise a family together
And live happily ever after.
But you’ll be there in the front row,
With him by your side,
Where I’d always hoped to be.
She’ll never know, of course,
That she was second choice.
That I wanted it to be you.
I wanted it to be you,
So very badly.
The Entry - E
Written: December 30, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
***********
You tilt the world and hush its frantic spin;
a gentled light that settles in my skin.
You foster my slashed heart, seek fairness,
To soar above conundrum awareness.
Your gaze revamps my lackluster day;
lifts the veil, beckons beyond radiant way.
A spark draws the drab embers to flame;
your composure spurred me to fame.
The Entry-A
Slowly yet
As fast as I can
Run or stay
In this world torn by shadows, my love, I wonder,
Why do the wounds I bear for you demand proof of blood,
As if the blooming of roses needed witnesses?
I hate this world, I hate the way it forces me to hide,
What should never be concealed, my love for you.
Perhaps... perhaps on the day of judgment, when souls strip away lies,
I will find you there, under the gaze of the Almighty,
With trembling hands and a shattered voice, I will whisper... Yes...
Yes, from the heart, from the deepest corners of my being, I loved you.
It was pure, it was... it was just love. Until that day comes,
I will drag this heart through the dust of this cruel world,
Hating it for forcing me to prove my love...
Hating it for making me this way. And in the paradox of my love,
Like a seagull lost between clouds of lead and a sea of steel,
I will continue to soar, even in the face of opposing winds,
For love, my love, is a labyrinth with no exit and no beginning.
Torn Soul
Remembering so many people from the past
Where is she? Where is he? Where are they?
I can’t recognise. Oh, many of them have passed
Ladies, men. From my life, from my time. From our
From ours, but we are not the soul. The soul is us
Together, all together. We are inside, Passed are far
Outside of our souls, why are they so far? I miss them
All of them. Altogether. But the memories are lives
In my mind and heart. I imagine them. We live together
I am sick. Does the past exist?
“Yes, I exist, I live in your life”, answered Past
“Everything in your mind comes from mine”, continued Past
“And I want to live, I live, I am immortal, in your mind”, said Past
Yes, the broken time
The broken Soul and souls
Again, happy and whole
In the mind of the past
Please
Kill me
I want
To be
Your
Past
Kill me
Kill
Just
Kill
My
life
For
The
Past
It's hard to know
what it stands for now,
snatched away by some group
who wants it all their way
and another of so called
patriots commandeering the colours
to wrap around their version
of the truth. And yet another
claiming it for their god
who, they say, gave it
to them as a banner
of exceptional favour.
Such banners held aloft
by Rome's invincible legions
rotted on the battlefields
of division. No flag
can survive the lie.
you lost your dignity in my eyes
the moment i sat down to write-
about your impudence and lies
that you threw at me and said goodbye
a coward in the skin of a roaring lion
threw stones at my door after setting it on fire,
allow me to brief you about the damage caused
karma will always follow you, or whatever path you stroll
skin in flames, tears and my pain
you caused it all while i was grieving someone's loss
thought you loved me like i was your favorite flower
but you tore me apart from petal to petal
your prayer to ascend for heaven, will always remain as a wish
years of torture that you have me hiding under love's disguise
it will come to hunt you just like your memories haunt my dreams
and in that moment i will know that was my revenge
I see the throbbing bass and liquid windswept flute in colorful everyday accompaniments companions really helping guiding finding myself quite champed as I weave through parallel realms not commonly accessed by learned energy observing interacting always respectful as I understand these entities exist to expand my mind chasing swallowtail butterflies and the aliens among us dragonflies whose speed of acrobatic art can only be duplicated by beings from another dimension the reason my 30 mn hikes always become 2 hour soul journeys connecting with all I encounter some boring sad joyful recompense but none grumpy mean or uninhabitable
08/18/25
3:11am
I tore a letter from inside my ribs
not a heart, just the script of your name
written in red ruin and birth fluid.
You were never mine.
You were my plague.
And still I prayed at your shadow.
Every sentence you whispered
became a worm in my lung,
a hymn stuck in the throat of a dying god.
And yet, when the mirror begged me
to choose life or you
I held your rot and kissed it clean.
Feel like im 1 of 1 in this torn apart world, if i turn cold thats undone
seen with my past mistakes
nothing new under the sun, someone else has sat in this place
a world where we keep a loaded gun and a mask to cover our face
from pain we easily run i guess were scared of the mace
Showin love will get you hung, what a shame or disgrace
look what the devil has brung now were corrupted by toxic waste
speak evil in fears of them cutting your tongue, caught up like a rat in this race
And the flash of reel will have you stunned so in turn we walk away (real,reel)
Our thoughts we keep concealed, worried how the other portray
Like a rat running on a wheel till our bodies decay
My skin ill allow you to peel even if you poison my bod-ay
Im looking for something real like "whats outside of this cage"
Im bitin at the steel maybe one day we'll all escape...
You take a break ill keep biting till my body you cant resuscitate, I'll keep fighting till me and death got a lovely dinner date.
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