Written: September 21, 2026, Week's Poetry Challenge: The Last Word
I walk through silence, flame.
I breathe through sorrow, flame.
I trudge through sludge, flame.
I rise through ruin, flame.
I woo the void, flame.
I stall the scourge, flame.
I stipple the sky, flame.
I indite my hymnody, flame.
I christen the dawn, flame.
I herald horizons, flame.
I nictate through night, flame.
I transmogrify fear, flame.
I outshine the shadows, flame.
I outpace the silence, flame.
I outfly the distance, flame.
I end in endless, flame.
my weary trudge along a hundred miles
through rugged roads lead my steps~
to a closed iron gate
Across the wandering life’s dynamic domain,
we traverse on the footprints of fate.
The tortuous pathway we pave for us
in the uncertain topography of life
meanders to the formless fortune
where it takes the ordained shape,
We trudge aimless with nebulous ambition
on the fated course of ambiguity,
across the illusive hues of the sunset horizon,
where we get caught in the confining clutch
of the storm clouds of providence
as captive of the toxic milieu.
The night unfolds its fiery face
within the insight struck by thunderstorm,
every heartbeat finds the scars engraved by chance.
The shadows of deceit dance with intent
within the melting conscience clouds,
truth revealed in lies is hidden in the shine of the stars.
The surreptitious dreams we design
dazzle with the stellar glow
with heaven’s secrets coded for one and all.
The whisper of celestial silence articulates destiny
for the mystified travelers following
the tune of the singing stars.
Grifting, Betrayal Vibes Alive
They broke me in pieces,
Thought I'd stay scattered on the pavement
But I ascended like a scandal they couldn't
Repose, every word a renewal.
I stitched my scars with tempo, made my
Heart beat,
A drum line, turned their lies into study,
Turned my pain into a spine.
I trudge heavier now-not with hurt, but with
Savvy, Every pace a comeback, Every breath a
Showing.
They tested to dim my fire, but I'm born with
Sureness.
But from Betrayal, activated by vision,
Unshaking, loosened up- A self- made revision.
plodding footsteps respect no rhythm
life’s forward tilt, a sneer
what passes for ho or hum
sucks the vigor from its beer
but complaints wear out
a million frowns
and peeves are hope upside down
So, on they trudge, footsteps plodding
scuff life's wedding gown
Systemic Strain Part II
Proof that survival is an art outline,
And you paint it daily with any scraps
They embark you.
They monitor your struggles without seen
In the prototype of the broken appliances
Behind it.
The group blame the person
Instead of the patterns.
They call it "Personal "
Responsibility ".
When it's genuinely Systemic Sabatoge.
But you-
You trudge with a spine that recalls everytime
You bent and still didn't quit.
You speak with a voice that carries the
Parroting of every barrier lifted.
And you say it plain, loud enough for the
Block to hear:
This tautness ain't mine
This fault ain't mine
This fight was allotted to me by a system
That never cultivated how to hold its own
Bulk.
I'm not the Crack.
I'm the pressure point.
I'm the vocal cords that named the real culprit
And to carry it's shame declines.
consciousness static
our heart ecstatic
as bliss beats renew
whose each hue is new
divine grace influx
is the very crux
of our God search quest
invoked when thoughts rest
we are a God spark
who lights up the dark
wherein He is still
as we trudge uphill
we as he who seeks
in consciousness peeks
but finds nothing there
save light self-aware
as flame eternal
in body’s kernel
ego vaporised
truth is realised
aboard God’s bliss bus
such thoughts come to us
as verses we pen
in mood and mode zen
Long Walk
dark silhouettes of maple trees
etched against the evening sky
a whiteish haze in the distance
dulls the sharp outlines
of the Smoky Mountains
my time on the
Appalachian Trail has been
long and arduous
my soul aches
for home
my body wants a soft bed
but I have miles to go
to reach the southern terminus
at Springer Mountain, Georgia
I put one foot
in front of the other
as I trudge on
just another through
hiker finishing
a long walk
Its timid timeout strikes a muted chord,
Heart beats at peace and mindful spin’s on hold,
Overtures of serenity unfold
Amidst mundane routine - a rare reward.
It tiptoes at the sounds of silence mode,
Its quietude, though fleeting, feels so good.
Rekindling carefree echoes of childhood
Before the adult footfalls trudge the road.
I languorously steep in its slow still,
Soak every bit of calm it wafts away,
Serenity - my bestie, if I may,
Most coveted and cherished, if you will.
I try to avoid them in the crisp morning light,
but I hastily sink into their mud-caked bottoms.
I sink to my knees in their inevitable stratum.
One after another, beyond memory or thought,
swirling pools of consciousness unspoken.
Parallel immersive mythos together and unbroken.
Heavy here, my trudge from pond to pond,
egoless consciousness watches with detachment.
My fledgling demanding acts are persistent.
My emotions are unwitting and hand-crafted.
These ponds of my making create schemas
from hormones and perceptual appraisals.
I plod through stages of deepening awareness.
From weeping to laughter, I feel each nuanced valence.
Though I try to resist them again and again,
these are my schemas, my reckoned inventions.
Like a roaming wolf or a squirrel poised in a tree,
these emotional appraisals are my intentions.
These spontaneously self-organizing feelings
are my defenses, and my epiphanies of universal marvel
as egoless consciousness awaits, unspoken.
Off to my shift at the mirage
Its feigned oasis has been dry since my arrival
And looks like it always was
The thirsty come to drink
Fistfuls of sand falling from cupped hands
Some think it a ruse
That we hoard what’s left for ourselves
Behind locked doors and hidden closets
That a lack of persuasion is all that bars them from paradise
Others trudge along, futility in their steps
Aware that if paradise existed
It has been scorched irreparably
Yet we continue
For God-search to truly begin,
we first cleanse heart from stains of sin,
by gentling each thought, word and deed,
in prayer, going in within.
Poised in stillness, renouncing greed,
ego cravings we cease to feed,
thus invoking the grace of God,
voice of truth beginning to heed.
We trudge along and as we plod,
joyful since giving love our nod,
bliss magnetism ignites our form,
the touch of God, leaving us awed.
Grazed by currents both cool and warm,
we yield; bliss takes us by the storm,
ego dies, we become the flame,
with heightened vibrance heart’s new norm.
We seek nothing and have no aim,
knowing life impulsed is a game,
played in mode embrace and release,
there being no demons to tame.
When wayward thoughts totally cease,
formless presence flows like the breeze
and in the void we wingless glide,
outcomes any, always at ease.
Trusting God, we enjoy life’s ride,
knowing He’s close, in heart inside
and in timeless time, we see Him,
He, on Whom, we’ve always relied.
A God-spark, capsuled in form,
senses currents cool and warm,
joyous on feeling contrast,
not knowing earth life won’t last.
Thought spawned illusions amaze,
so soon the soul’s in a daze,
descent chosen by free will,
so he must now trudge uphill.
To rise on an upward arc,
is easy for the God-spark,
if in heart its quest does start,
a simple shift and yet an art.
Mind has a life of its own,
which it is loathe to disown,
so continues spewing thought,
a web in which soul is caught.
A day comes when desires cease,
thoughts ebb and soul flows with ease,
propelled by bliss magnetism,
enlivening body prism.
Cessation then paves the way,
compelling mind to obey,
pulse of heart, all love and light,
filling form with bliss delight.
Heaven then descends to earth,
childlike hearts bubbling with mirth,
recognising all are one,
as God’s spark, same as the sun.
Having cooled down, these life-passions
With them, that bond with Summer
Foot to flame, done in.
Best of whose associations
Childhood's raced, running.
Trudge now. Til with that more harried
Countenance, onto Autumn's
Breast-like leaf-mound slump.
Its winds to my words replied:
"We're of one mind, grump!"
.
brrr'r
'twere trudge
thuh
this time
duck'n umbrellaz
transit's humorous
splash'n
ahhh
wuz wade'n
worth
for
write'n
,)
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