My doorbell repairman is Sid.
I put in a bell-repair bid:
I called Sidney out,
but I’m smothered in doubt:
he didn’t show up. Or he did!
Perhaps the wind will turn today,
or perhaps it will drifts elsewhere,
keeping the echoes of what we never said
if quiet were not already there...
Perhaps the rain will choose to fall,
or perhaps it will hold its tears,
leaving the streets unkissed and all
our waiting hearts postpone in years.
Perhaps I saw your smile at sunrise,
or perhaps the night was weaving deceptions;
perhaps what is gone still lingers
and perhaps we gather more than we notice.
Perhaps, my words are not enough,
yet still I write, in quiet prose...
for perhaps a poem is just this:
a maybe that nobody knows.
Impossible to catch my breath
waiting for the other shoe to drop
~ the suspense claiming another victim
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2025
As I try to wish away, all the sadness that I feel;
As if a night sky's falling star, could grant me something real...
If only one small wish, of what's eluded me all this life thus far;
I'd wish for just some happiness, just a little in a jar;
So I could open as I needed, unload some sadness that I feel
Much like unloading bulky freight,
From a trains overloaded boxcar...
If only I could wish away, all the sadness that I feel,
I'd finish this life with certainty
And a soul full of new found zeal...
I would see him die, rather than saving him.
I don't know what his life could be after he dies, or if he would be saved.
If someone dies, that person is remembered, would be praised for his good deeds, or criticized for words he never meant in that way.
But I will have the thought that he will have a better afterlife—what many people don't know about.
But if I save that person, I don't know what major change I will cause in his stormful presence.
He is looking dead into my eyes, like his eyes are telling me that I am the last living person who hasn't seen him with disgust.
I saw him jump over the bridge.
At first, I thought a thief or a burglar took his wallet and pushed him off.
But now I am questioning what I should believe—
The fake thought that I have created, or the reality that he wants to die in.
And at that point, I would let him die, rather than saving him.
A silver bird departs, the sky serene,
Yet morning’s promise shatters in a breath;
Ash falls where laughter and bright hopes had been,
A city mourns the sudden hand of death.
In distant hills, a traveler’s path grows cold,
A journey meant for dreams, now left undone;
The news arrives—too heavy to be told—
A vanished step, a race that’s never run.
Where rivers wind through valleys deep with pine,
And pilgrims seek the solace of the land,
A shadow falls, intentions intertwine
With violence wrought by an unseen hand.
Yet through these veils, uncertain as the night,
We hold each fragile day, and seek the light.
A silver bird departs, the sky serene,
Yet morning’s promise shatters in a breath;
Ash falls where laughter and bright hopes had been,
A city mourns the sudden hand of death.
In distant hills, a traveler’s path grows cold,
A journey meant for dreams, now left undone;
The news arrives—too heavy to be told—
A vanished step, a race that’s never run.
Where rivers wind through valleys deep with pine,
And pilgrims seek the solace of the land,
A shadow falls, intentions intertwine
With violence wrought by an unseen hand.
Yet through these veils, uncertain as the night,
We hold each fragile day, and seek the light.
I sit and stare beyond what's there, besides
"The oval window, a portal to another dimension".
It drags the moon's eclipse off the sun's circle
to show an ellipse with twin foci, in two dimensions not one.
The tension woven into its shape shrouds a duality,
a flip-flop state, steeped in,
and reeking with ambivalence.
An oval coracle holding on,
rocking in choppy seas.
Therein lies a worm hole,
where logic warps to both sides, here and now, together,
where light bends, twists refracts to an oval rainbow,
where time stands still, then back-tracks
to before, to way, way back when,
and on to now and then.
An oval belies uncertainty,
spiraling like sand,
down in an hour-glass
down the plug-hole, down into the sink below,
collected in an oval coracle,
an egg yet to hatch.
The stars once whispered secrets in the dark,
Now silence hangs like frost upon the trees—
No tender sign, no ever-burning spark,
Just shadows drifting over cold distant seas.
I held a truth once, small and clear and bright,
A jewel I found in dusk’s uncertain light—
But now the day dissolves into the gental dark night,
And I am lost in shores of shifting sand.
The faces smile, but none of them are real,
The words they say ring hollow in my ears—
What once could wound no longer makes me feel,
The wells are dry, I have outlasted tears.
I used to sing when spring was in the air—
Now even birds seem strangers in the sky.
Is this despair, or only a mute that can't hear,
Of something too worn down to even cry?
I just don’t know. And that must be enough,
in life.
When poised precariously,
balanced on the edge of a precipice,
choice can’t wait for clarity.
For the mass of uncertainty,
tips the balance just enough
to topple you off the cliff
into the valley below.
The sheers gravity of choice,
is unrelenting and absolute,
in the face of uncertainty.
You're blindfolded by fear,
bent over, to leer, too long,
into the valley below.
Uncertainty and urgency
conspire to force us
to decide,
to leap before we hear
to leap before we know
or to wimp and stutter
and step back,
and make a hasty retreat,
into the valley below.
The candle trusted the flame,
So warm, so near, so bright.
It leaned into the dance of fire,
Believing it was light.
But love that flickers, fierce and fast,
Can scorch what seeks to stay.
Now wax runs down like falling tears,
The flame still sways,
while the candle melts away.
Soon the flame too will burn out,
For after we consume others,
So are we consumed.
Through uncertainty continued journey
of life, accepting every challenge to meet.
I possess my body, yet temporary !
Through door of uncertainty life to greet :
Any moment may flash, date of expiry.
Through door of uncertainty to exit.
Took birth at the door of uncertainty
to enter in life continuing journey,
not even aware of my own identity.
From where I came ? where to go, seems most funny !
Body belongs to me and also soul is mine.
But at any time, can I raise my voice?
Though born as human and I am feeling fine,
To lead my life was I given any choice?
Through evolution mere probability !
Natural happenstances without control ?
Just only chance or fair possibility,
Cycle of life and demise, endless to roll !
I possess my body, yet temporary !
Through door of uncertainty life to greet :
Any moment may flash, date of expiry.
Through door of uncertainty to exit.
seemingly undeniable certitude and conviction
handle hinges slats panels lock and key
maybe a cat flap for escape towards illusions
a trap door of revolving gates
sometimes we are framed by cemented beliefs
of what remains perspective and opinion
seeking for external validations
we fail to search for what is inside
stay on the threshold of immobility
minds need lubricating agents
rust prevention or sometimes a chisel
to determine what certainty is
a conundrum delusion of impermanence
which steals happiness and adventure
of open-minded investigation
there are moments however
when we can crawl out of a window
or simply break through walls
self-made incarceration is futile
and the chains shackling us
are the ones we crafted ourselves
Behind the door of softest gold,
A whisper calls, both shy and bold,
It hums a tune that floats on air,
A song of hope, it's always there.
What lies beyond? A field of green,
Where moments bloom, unheard, unseen,
A path that winds with endless grace,
Uncharted yet, a wide embrace.
Not fear, but wonder stirs the mind,
A world that's open, undefined,
The lock is soft, the key is sweet,
In every breath, a chance to meet.
So we step forward, eyes alight,
Embracing what may take its flight,
The door swings wide, with gentle ease,
And in that space, we're free to breathe.
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