On the 11th of September
A day we should all remember
That sad day the Twin Towers came falling down
Crashing to the ground
That fateful, infamous day
When Americans passed away
2,977 unfortunate souls
Went up to become God's Guardian Angels
And let's remember as well
Those who died from the toxins in the air from hell
Those Brave Police Officers, Firemen, EMTs and brave Citizens
To rescue people, went back in again and again
Now, God's Guardian Angels watch over us
As we do dangerous things and such
Things that must be done, understand?
To save people in danger, as many as we can
So, let's bow our heads and say a prayer
For our Heroes who die every day everywhere
Our Heroes who may not always get recognized
But are Brave Heroes none the less in our eyes
When you relax after your day is done
Please remember our Heroic Unlucky Ones
Who are sadly no longer here
To Them, raise a cup, drink a toast of wine, spirits or beer
Remember we must!
Cause when the debris is cleared and cleared the dust
The Terrible War Site is gone
But the Memories live on...
Copyright ©? Jeff W. Watson, September 11, 2026
you're my dusk-soothe, O sun smoke
this unwedded rose weeps love ~
a poem, with soulmate blooms …
my muse…twin-flame m o
o n …
~ Contest Name : Let’s do it!
Sponsor : Nette Onclaud
The day when poem saw the light : 11/08/26
Why are the pupils all hollow and black?
While the rest of the face answers back.
Two little eclipses, silent and small
Meet without speaking, yet somehow tell all.
Blue irises sparkle, green irises gleam.
Hazel rings catch a sunlight's beam.
Yet every glance, both shy and deep,
Slips through coronas where secrets sleep.
The pupil offers neither a glow,
Nor colours any eye can show.
A silent absorber drinking light.
A waiting well hidden from sight.
If the pupil were white on a face so fair,
There'd be no doorway inviting our stare.
If it were a mirror, we'd turn away,
Finding no reason to linger and stay.
Two strangers meet with quiet grace,
Their dark eclipses face to face.
Each sips the light that the other brings,
Through glowing coronas, halos and rings.
Perhaps the darkest place we keep,
Is where a seeking soul looks deep.
Yet this dim path to shared delight,
Begins through darkness into light.
Forever My Twin
It’s hard to capture what it means to be a twin,
So I guess this is the place I’ll begin.
We came into this world a little too soon,
Two tiny souls beneath the same moon.
The doctors spoke with doubtful grace,
But time has proven they misplaced their faith.
From day one, life’s been an adventure untamed,
Our story written, yet never the same.
So many birthdays in the month of May—
Each one brighter in your light, I’d say.
As kids, we were truly inseparable,
Our bond is forever immeasurable.
My fellow connoisseur of mac and cheese,
You always knew how to make me laugh with ease.
We didn’t choose the twin life, it chose us first-
Bound by love that time can't reverse
And if I could live it all again, I'd start anew
Still side by side with you
Two weary hearts call out in yearning song,
both searching for a dream to heal their soul.
The touch of love's been absent for so long;
their needs grow bold as passion takes control.
Each lonely spirit hears the other's cry
and journeys quickly to that gentle tone.
Upon approach, a bond they can't deny
as twin flames melt into a fire that's grown.
The blaze engulfs their hearts as beats combine,
a perfect union formed within this heat.
Consumed by adoration so divine
they feel that restoration is complete.
Surrounded by a newfound love to share,
they know this is the answer to their prayer.
Mark always claimed his late-
night drives were just to clear
his head.
His wife believed him until
she found a second phone
inside his desk.
The screen lit up with a
emoji text message from
a name she knew well.
"Can't wait until we can finally
stop hiding our love, Charlie,"
it read.
Her husband was sleeping
with the one man she trusted
the most: her twin brother.
A slow descent of lovers in white,
drifting along the quiet current.
A pair of travelers, strangers to the dark,
Jack Frost isn’t too kind to wanderers.
As dusk claims the sky, a storm makes haste.
Desperately holding on to each other,
their crystals begin to change.
They can’t remain as they are.
The violent storm, an orchestra of stars.
Black clouds in a sky of crystals,
hail bulldozing through dusk,
The rise of winter has just begun.
Mercilessly dragged away from each other,
the two get tossed by raging winds.
Alone, they travel across separate skies
slowly forgetting each other's faces.
When the snow melts, there he lay awake,
the last one of his kind, enduring Mother Nature.
As the crystal begins to decay and deform,
a ripple spreads through the puddle of memories.
He began to rise, higher and higher into the black sky.
Changing into his former glory, a snowflake once more.
Drifting alone in darkness,
for no two can be alike.
Halo, have you been found?
May your light cast on down.
Reflected back, a fractured shine-
We've found a piece of missing time.
Watching past versions fade-
Heavy burdens absence weighed.
Return even in deep silence-
A fate we knew would bind us.
You're half my eager soul
Treading this hallowed path.
From once sacred black rose-
Eyes now locked as if in trance.
A newly found sense of life-
Fallen star- shining bright.
The quiver of your lips
Forever felt between us.
For heartache lessons when-
Your presence eases pain.
We always sought our better half-
Ending peace where we began.
Carved from dawn's own breath,
two white swans glide,
their wings lifting the quiet
that once enveloped the world in wonder.
The lake, still holding the memory
of creation’s earliest shimmer,
opens to cradle their passing.
They slowly turn toward one another~
twin spirits recalling a venerable vow
spoken before time learned to count.
The reeds lean closer listening to
the ancient winds whisper,
love begins in gestures like this
silent, certain, older than the sky.
A silhouette detached from stone,
It mimics walking, yet is boneless,
With amethyst and indigo grown,
A silent, shapeless, velvet witness.
It drinks the light to build a cage,
A copy on a painted stage.
How far can one flee
from the quiet twin of the soul—
that dark companion
stitched to every step?
Across valleys,
through cities of noise,
over oceans of distraction,
still it follows.
For shadow is not an enemy,
but the truth walking beside us,
the self we try to outrun
yet must one day embrace.
And so the weary runner learns:
escape is an illusion—
peace begins
when we turn,
and walk with our shadow home.
the wonder twins of worship
when it comes to the Lord our God
is praying and playing from the depths of our hearts
to use our instruments to allow
the melody of God to reveal
to use our bodies as living witnesses
to bring forth God's power to heal
for the word of God is the foundation
of the theological message in the song
and the melody will always sit on top of God's words
where it righteously belongs
the raw breath of God does not need our assistance.
it only needs us to apply an unparalleled persistence
yes, preparation is required
when it comes to giving God our best
rehearsals and practice must be approached
with importance and not a mild interest
It's okay to judge the gifts,
just never question those who are anointed
yes, there is great talent
but were they by God assigned and appointed
let your worship be your relationship with God
and let your daily prayer life build a legacy
as we stir up the gifts God gave us
dancing and playing with a dedicated tenacity
so let us prophesize with our instruments
let the movement of dance embody the Holy Spirit,
the twin wonders of worship,
praying and playing with a godly commitment
It's a lovely sun-drenched day of clouds and blue sky,
Giving such a beautiful vista on which I gaze.
Two sparrows dancing at opposite roosts catch my eye,
On a large branch in the huge maple at center stage
Distant bells ring out in the distance a melodic peal,
Accompanying the movement of leaves in the breeze.
I see a twin-tower temple with sweet images to reveal,
With such quiet grace it sets troubled minds at ease.
I muse of a sanctuary of inner warmth and grace,
With a scent of roses urging me to follow my nose.
Drawn as by the sensuous smile on a woman’s face,
I begin to presume how the rest of the story goes.
Woman indeed is so wisely and nobly endowed,
Between the pillars of her calling in awesomeness.
She remains her openly receptive self and still proud,
Showing me haven where my weary soul finds rest.
Together we dream of a garden of hope and love,
Living within the comforts of shared pleasure.
As I drink the nectar that showers from above,
I conceived of a supreme realm for all to treasure.
she always wants to mollify, placate and please.
I roll my eyes, wondering if she is but a tease.
No one loves being more than a doormat than me and my twin.
It is a game we learned early, taught to us by overbearing kin.
She's a runner
He plays it safe.
She chases love.
He'll take what he can take.
She waited without saying a word
He spoke louder to be sure that he's heard
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