If his name’s not on the building,
No one gets to go inside,
For to have someone else honored,
Causes damage to his pride.
He attempts to rule the country
Like a bully from the block
And the fact that some enable him
Leaves normal folk in shock.
I am tired of his tweeting
And I’m sick of all his lies.
He’ll be listed in the books as one
Most voters did despise.
But to end this on an upbeat note,
A U-turn from obscene,
It’s a special day for Henry,
As my grandson turns 13!
The frantic traveller treads miles in vain,
Wraps endless skies as if his bliss to find,
And yet, there’s no end to his ceaseless pain
Till he leaves all the outer storms behind.
The bird that hunted on his happy bough,
Now folds its weary wings to seek the nest,
Forgetting what was sought, and where, and how,
To simply settle in a state of rest.
The fleeting fire that mocked against cold night,
Dissolves before the truth of rising sun,
The inner space lit with newly dawned light,
Where seeker and the sought at last are one.
No longer searching ‘everywhere, eyes shut’,
And boundless truth is found inside the hut.
_________________________________
Reflections | 32.08.2026 | grief, fire, image, life, search, winter, Sonnet
You have to make that decision
If you go right your future will be bright
And you will reach new heights
In your life you will be a great leader
And with all this racism you will be a great healer
You will never be a cheater
You will always be that great dreamer
And in your self you will be a believer
Eventually you will be a great achiever
If you decide to go left
You will always be tested
Your life everyday will be some how affected
You may be the one that is always suspected
For some reason you may not be felt connected
And you will always will feel neglected
You realize you took the wrong direction
And now you change your mind and pick the right selection
It may take along time
To make that climb
And to stop all the bad crimes
Your heart says you can do it
If you just try to commit
I'm tell'n you bloke, it ain"t no joke,
specially if he's a big and red, and a
Joey's dad..who got him quite
Already mad! Ya may well think when
He's hunkerd down, real low against
The ground, just munchi'n on veg
But geez he's got some edge' so if
You think to applick.? To his ribs a stick?! I advise ya nooo! Do not do that Joe.!!!
Some stand at eight feet nine.' And when
They are in a bind.??? First they tilt the head. Left eye, right eye..Just to sort'a say- see' what'cha do'in ta me.? Then its
Up he'll come skin tight like a drum.' And even
If your name is fred.? Well its now to late to get
To the shed..Its time to ( suck it and see.!)
Immediately...Just in time the earth quake
Happened.' All the bloody roos; just wen't scatter'n God always comes in time, ya know? even saved on a dime, as it goes '
Let us say there is great devastation.'
In Venezula.!
In Columbia.!
In Ukraine.!
In Iran.!
Let us say, there is great devastation..!
In the USA there is homelessness.?
There is rampant, drug abuse.'
There is wholesale murder of the un-born;
Future.!
In the whole world inequality reigns.'
Let us say there is great devastation..!
Where is God we may say in all this.?
He is still waiting I remind myself.'
For you and me, to turn to Him..)
So that he may heal. All our great devastations.!
Arms entwined
Body pressed against body
Lips engaging lips
Thighs in a bind-
I cannot turn away- so -
Instead, I say, " Will you two, please get a room"
Rainfall pulls the blinds,
on bouncy folk’s wild picnic,
vile thunder as wet blanket,
yet blindside sunburst’s,
so prompt relief augurs well,
for merry beanfest revived
Ominous dark cloud,
imagined plague, close peril,
might scupper gallant junket,
but fleeting storm front,
heartens madcap daring poised,
to trailblaze gold rush frontiers
Forest and Dove
Artist: Max Ernst
Turn on the Lights
White of his eye, orange nose, black bird.
Blue sky flying high above the dark forest.
Scenery is haunting; like the kid’s movie “Coraline.”
Disturbing, the feeling of being lost in the forest.
Nightmare of trees depicted as serrated teeth.
(Hansel and Gretel in a cage) dove’s bars behind him.
Is he free, can he flee; will the bars surround him?
The woods, towering like skyscrapers, tight
in the frame; childhood claustrophobia, intense.
The full-bodied bird appears to be caught
“in the headlights,” like a deer taken aback.
Tenebrous green and rust brown, skeleton stature;
shadowy beasts bullying, stalking, terrorizing.
I can’t turn away. My eyes take in the scenery.
No matter how small the canvas, the ink
seeps into my brain, driving me mad in the night.
Surreality; reality of the young and very old.
It is stronger
than sympathy
Words are rattling bones,
when the meat is gone
The world is hungry
while you are bored
The divide is insulting:
cashmere and caviar
versus clouded water
and calloused feet
“In our city of lost alphabets”
I hope to find a mirror
to see myself
I wasn't with the answers
I can’t afford to go there,
nor am I strong enough
to understand the intimacy
of starvation
James Baldwin described it palpably
in ‘Black Boy’
The last stage of hunger
is when grass is an option
The minister ate
all the fried chicken!
The kids naw
on wishbones
and fiddle with sticks
in the dust
I went into the movie theater with Joe
The plot drew me in, I went with the flow
The hero had flaws, the heroine was odd
Suddenly I leapt up and shouted "Oh God"
The emotional blowtorch had let out a blast
A reminder of my sickening past.
Joe led me outside to the cool evening air
He asked, "what possessed you to disrupt in there?"
My reaction died down, the alarm turned off
I looked around, gave an embarrassed cough.
Joe said "There's a psychiatrist down the road"
I replied, "No doctor can lighten this load."
I said that edges are blunted, when reality is stark.
I live in a watercolor picture rather than sharp
Joe downplayed my past, but looked sad:
he said "your shouting makes us look mad"
So I'll go without Joe to the movies, that's where I feel:
Maybe in that false world I briefly get real.
A cage opens that routine shuts tight
I can return to darkness when they turn on the light.
Joe and I can go fishing, that's still alright.
Baby angel Lee was having a turn on the bells
It’s my turn now! Yelped baby cousin Nells.
But Lee was having fun, and she loved hearing the ring.
Hearing him whine was not an important thing.
I wanted to employ a steampunk lion
but discovered they eat humans without fry’n
I settled for a steampunk tiger with a portfolio
He asked me to turn and walk away really slow
Remember don’t do the crime...
Unless you're willing to do the time.
Be good, you’ll get treats.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
There's a voice at the bottom of my mind,
Whispering that life is a book of pages;
That one day, my page will truly turn
Into a better chapter—it will become my turn,
And on its face, I will write: “No pain.”
The same voice tells me again:
Your page may be a laughing stock,
But yet your pain is never in vain;
For one day, you will reign with brain,
And pain will break out of your veins.
It will be your day of blessing, your day of rain,
When people and things will come your way,
And everyone will sing and sing your praise.
Alas! Your turn is truly turning—
Hold on!
My i say they were.' (My mistakes)Yet thats easy enough to spout.' Out, As a geyser is there not doubt,l.? forms in the shadow world demon
Spawn.' Manipulating the ' latest thing or
Media storms' who counts the tears.? But
God alone.' He keeps no score..
And we.?hope? to atone? Jesus sacrificed tried by night.' Oh breakers of trust' of pharonic blights
Blind and willful pharasiees,acts and signs of falsehood, you will bend the knee.' Or be
Thrown whole into hells fires.' Where even ashes
Carry the flames ever higher.' You love to
Divide, to wreck, to tear.. A dead law won't
Save you, its only mercy so rare.' Look around see the signs, better to fall at Chtists feet, who vanquished oblitterated
That many can eat; of life.. Repent turn back..Accept true life. Turn from hell and
Endless night.'
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