This much, O heaven—if I should ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ rave,
Pity me not; but let ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ in my madness ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ the grass ¦¦¦¦ grows upon my grave.
If I dare ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
Whimper and clamour, give me grace ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ of ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ God.
Thank God the stars ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ must travail in ¦¦¦ night ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦
Thank God my tears will never ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ curse ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ a flower.
Men say the sun was darkened: yet ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ it beat brightly, even on—Calvary:
And He ¦¦¦¦ hung upon the Torturing Tree
¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦
(Blackout of A Prayer in Darkness by G K Chesterton)
Took trash to the curb for this week's pickup,
And did a few more early morning chores.
In a region I once knew,
Were tasty days not a few.
Those summer rays would heat up the days;
But usually, a delta breeze cooled the nights.
Our present region has no such delight.
But on this early mid- August morning,
A summer breeze said "Good Morning",
Soothing me softly as I watered the flowers.
She blew gently as I also watered the pepper
And tomato plants.
The soothing gentle breeze felt my gratitude.
Sensing my curiosity, and discerning my present
summer crave, she quietly said to me,
"Like an Arch Angel, I broke through the
Torturing heatwave just to give you a taste
Of another form of the heavenly manna".
Beaming and satuated with delight,
I took a seat under our back balcony.
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Autumn, my breath of fresh AIR.
Autumn, she sings melodies of CARE.
See her as your beautiful BRIDGE,
And she will assist you over the RIDGE.
From the fighting forces of NATURE,
She shields and gives hope for your FUTURE.
See her as your seasonal ADJUSTER,
And she will see you through DISASTER.
Accept her as the officiating REFEREE,
From climatic extremes she'll set you FREE.
Autumn, my calm after torturing HEAT.
Autumn, my peace, poise; my season TREAT.
This house has been set ablaze; ashes rain like snow,
covering what has become my deathbed.
A weighted blanket of ruins lies heavy upon my chest.
Laboured breaths and the taste of soot coat the back of my throat,
stifling oxygen from reaching the whites of enervated eyes.
Blue-tinted lips incoherently whisper, flirting with my demons,
living in purgatorial gloaming
whilst my spirit hovers between diminishing light and shadows.
Reality blurs, amalgamating with hallucinations
where demons dance in a macabre ballet,
reenacting repressed sorrows,
torturing an undead heart to the brink of insanity.
With each twirl, each act, tales of desperation are etched onto flesh.
Riverlets of blood stain the sheets bright red,
as tourniquets are nowhere to be found.
There is no way to halt the flow;
emotional instability will be my bloodletting.
Every second ticks by a little quicker
until each heartbeat grows fainter.
A clenched jaw relents,
eyes roll backwards,
and a damaged soul is severed from its mortal coil,
yet its fate is left undetermined,
flailing in the in-between forevermore.
The walls are sweating with the stench of the lie,
While the vultures in suits watch the innocent die.
You call them "leaders," you call them "the state,"
But they’re monsters fueled by a bottomless hate.
We thought we could trust the hand on the wheel,
But it’s satanic filth and a heart made of steel.
Blood-sucking leeches in a temple of sin,
Letting the child-torturing nightmare begin.
No more whispers, no more polite "reform,"
When pedophiles gather to shelter the storm.
They feast on the small, they prey on the weak,
While the truth is a language they refuse to speak.
The mask is ripped off, the rot is laid bare,
There’s a venomous smoke in the hollowed-out air.
They aren't just failing; they’re the beast at the door—
And the people won't bleed for the lies anymore.
Agonizing s h r i e k s
kept on defying babe's sweet sleep
as restlessness prevailed
over his calm countenance
while spastic limbs turned into a wild frenzy...
Then suffocating terror would attack
my mother's heart
echoing helplessness' s c r e a m s
since child's seizure seemed to paralyze me
torturing my mind, leaving me horrified...
Such gripped me for almost two years~~~
Now, I thank God, the peace-Giver
for victoriously conquering my fears
empowering me prayerfully to face fright's monsters
while overcoming torturous scenes of motherhood-woes
as the special child in our orphanage
champions faith midst miraculous healing.
The time I've wasted has gone to waste
Wasting my time wanting your attention, why does our friendship have to be so complicated? Why do I have to watch you throw me away like a toy?
These feelings are consuming me alive while you just take everything from my soul away but your smell is consuming me alive, wanting me to be manipulated and wanting to make me think about eating you alive
Torturing me for months like I'm just a useless vampire, you knew I loved you but you trapped and hid me away. You are so ing stupid of my intentions
The attention you gave me just caused my hunger, eating you alive made me feel so guilty, so selfish of me but you did this to me.
I loved you and you manipulated me but you couldn't have known you did and now your flesh will live inside me, until I die next to you.
I am half sick of shadows,* yet I find
peace in shadows away from scorching sun,
away from soul-torturing, shade-chasing
light designed in torment, designed to blind
cloistered eyes and the naivety spun
of life’s innocent patterns inlacing.
I am half-sick of living life sheltered
and of this living half-afraid to run~
why must I partake in my erasing;
with my every thought and feeling weltered
to self-effacing?
* Alfred Lord Tennyson's 1832 narrative poem, “The Lady of Shalott”
I see you torturing yourself
living in the past
reliving ancient history
Rehashing memories
to the point that they're
warped unrecognizably
I won't correct you
I refuse to engage ~
where would I begin?
Whatever feelings
I once might have had
are long forgotten
The reality is that
we separated ways
a million years ago
It’s truly sad that regrets
is the burden you chose
over living a fruitful life
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
is there not a note or chord or rhyme
i haven't explored or given time,
or some three letter tune, with notes so true
it perfectly explains my state of mind?
its hard finding new rhymes with lonely,
or to make arguments i've been betrayed,
those long nights still haunt me
and time and shame they cost me
behind an unlocked door barricade,
i wish i was a lot kinder,
to the one i had left on the floor,
instead of torturing myself with more questions
about if anyone really does care,
i should have packed up my rags,
put my time in a bag
and paid for a one-way bus fare,
to get me the hell out of there,
i'm sorry for leaving you abandoned,
and yelling at you to believe,
you must suck it all up,
put your pride in a cup,
and swallow your hollow disgrace,
the taste was always sour,
the smile soon would fade,
and back again you'd find yourself
behind another barricade,
There’s a monster menagerie inside my mind
these beasts are not cute, cuddly, or kind
they enjoy torturing my thoughts at night and all day
I’ll introduce you and tell you how each one behaves
First we have the notorious, "Nadine- NooneLikesYou”,
Then “Walter- You’reWorthless” is in my mind too
Here is “Rita Repeater” who never lets me forget
“Lala” likes words like Limacine, Lugubrious illiterate.
Meet “Tutoo”, who says “too fat, too old, too dumb to think
and "Christopher Critic" who says this poem stinks
If you know my monsters, I really feel for you...
This makes them seem funny but we know that’s not true.
plink, plink, water in the sink
sinks slowly into budding suds
torturing the pans and fork tines
who want cascade - show on the road
plink, plop, hands over ears, now stop
but slowly the spatter of drops
like the slow go of a rain storm
keep habitating, repeating
their ear-splitting, liver-bellied
bullying of the spoons and cups
the apron-covered giant turned
off the faucet, threw in the rag,
then the sponge, ew…her hands with gloves
now each piece, that is us, is scrubbed
and ah, true running water-rush
each of us towel dried, put ‘way
from nightmarish brutality
we rest…we rest..until lipstick
lands on the side of grinds in cup
and pan slams onto surface heat
in other words, we get beaten
then comes water in sink, awaken
the bully who sleeps eight hours
look forward to vacation, hers!
The world got caught under her breath
They could never hear her precious mumbling, only realized when she left
One second she was there
One second she was floating in timeless air
In a wisp of whimsical space
She would show her elegant face
A polaroid of a perfect smile
Commanding regretful tears and remembrance of all the distant years
Her blood was on the hands of many,
No one predicted the coming tragedy
Her life not quite a blissful blur
But rather a silent stab of sadness
She left no note or collective clues
That might have calmed you
No lying lyrics that provoked pointless pity in
Some that might have said torturing her was comedy
She only left a small reminder to anyone who could find her
And that is this…
“Dying is easy my friend, living is harder.”
When the world hates you
It's such a lonely place
Crawling out of bed each day
Forgotten in each and every way
Grasping at straws to build nest
Every minute is a torturing test
Blow away by unkindness
Held together buy a fine web
Of sorrow and unhappiness
Each word thrown your way
Cut like a knife through softened clay
Leaving a scar and empty space
Not winning at life's pointless race
Burdened by life's past actions
Push till they get their reaction
Life is a lonely road
Where you must walked alone
Indeed I need a angel
Or a new end to my fable
Last year I grew up to late
To now realize my fate
Of a life not to be enjoyed
But to be endurable enough
To make getting up tomorrow
Seem like a plan living on time borrowed
To hate is to love and to love is to hate
Will I ever be happy with my fate
Life hit me hard on the face
I became vulnerable
Even when I know many
It's like I know none
None is ready
To support or give a helping hand.
Everyone wants me to be loyal
Even when they know I am royal
Everyone wanna bend me
Even just for bread
They only come after me
Anytime I'm down and vulnerable.
Life keeps teaching
People kept on torturing
None wanna nurture
Even when we're same culture
They still act like vultures
Steady leisure
Without rendering any support.
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