Toying with the summer breeze.
Free... not a care in the world.
Falcon circling among the clouds.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
We’ve all known a friend in love,
infatuated with love.
The vicariousness of empathy is a serenely human experience.
We know this friend to be us by it.
Empathy from the depth of our being
resonates with their love.
Whatever joy is theirs, is ours.
It can’t be held or had or possessed.
Like a feather wafting
our swipe to grasp it creates the draft it evades us by,
but only in not trying are we possessed by it.
What are the concepts onto which we hold,
the crutches we need in order to walk,
though mind stagnates from youth till we grow old
and as false beliefs continue to stalk,
a time comes when beholding light we balk?
As formless awareness, one with vast space,
there remains of wayward ego no trace,
whence thus bereft of both desire and fear,
poised in the vibrant void, we imbibe grace,
and then we feel God’s love and light draw near.
The primeval feelings they court
Are thrills from kills as a cohort
The owners are betting
That this bloodletting
Attracts all to football as sport
Author's note: A celebrity commenter attributed the NFL's recent very high ratings and financial success to everything except the appeal of a violent game. The Romans exploited this emotion long ago at the Colosseum. If I watch a game, I find myself having these feelings, which I do not like. Solution: turn it off and peace out. Am I the only one?
The images come into view,
so crisply, sharp displayed;
Soon, but an after-image glow,
as they begin to fade…
If blue’s the hue, the story ends -
you wake up in your bed,
but Wonderland and rabbit-holes
lurk in the shadows red.
Vicarious, this online life,
soft edges, hard construed.
Yet, disconnected from the world,
life slips away from you.
For those who plant the garden rows,
this story’s incomplete.
When you plant shovels in the ground,
most times, dirt’s underneath.
Debates futile for each soul chooses it’s path
Doing what heart likes
Until making each breath, a Holy Sabbath
Thunderous bliss spikes
Fears and desires dykes
Wisdom of the scriptures, words etched in stone
Tested time and again
Yet each of us must tread the path alone
Feeling both joy and pain
Slowly cleansing soul stain
When free will chooses to become from fear immune
Abiding in silence
Distilled attention cognises God’s love tune
Rekindling heart’s innocence
Bubbling bliss effervescence
26-February-2022
8 Nov 2020 9:37 Am
Television to get my vision internet to see revision
Radio to set the pace and off to work and run the race
Eat to fast and shave my face didn't even get a taste
Coffee black caffien high kiss the wife a quick good bye didn't even see her face
Work all day don't think of life just chasing fuel to keep the lights on
Joke with Joe and what do you know lunch is gone can you work long
Back and forth we travel short do not play but watch the sport
See the american family on tv then off to sleep and dreams to sort
Up again at the crack of dawn at it again the same old song
Blinked today and my kids were grown years were short they should have been long
Slow down they say enjoy the day but you can't there's life to pay
So through others lives and imaginations mind we stay
This is the modern world all full of hype
This is our vicarious life
Inexperienced of Fall Season’s delight
my vision through virtual learning venture
beholds God's wondrous artwork at its height
displaying color-changes of nature.
I do see radiant Autumn’s beauty
as glowing leaves of magenta prevail
midst boughs of crimson and scarlet bounty
yield toward pale russet or auburn’s hail.
Witnessing foliage so magnificent
my soul praises the mighty Creator
for phenomenon that’s iridescent
declaring that He’s Sovereign Director.
Though devoid of actual genuine Fall’s enrichment
I thank the Lord for His rich blessings’ best
in my country’s two-season fulfillment
where He offers me sweet peace and bliss’ nest.
Hence, in my “Autumnless” exposure state
I find serenity of faith-prop in Christ’s warm embrace
lifting me when I fall, drawing me toward fellowship date
revived for reaching-out pursuits with His love and grace.*
*1Timothy 1:14 …The grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.
August 26, 2020
4th place, "Serenity Awakened" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh; judged on 8/27/2020.
On wings of love vicarious
With raging impetus my devotion soars
In my dreams night after night
Your loving heart I’ve conquered
Opulence surrounds you worthy of a queen
Gardens of magnolia exult your glamour
Jeweled combs adorn your voluptuous raven hair
Your silken skin mine to admire and caress
On a pedestal you become my temptress
Till roars that wicked chasm of the morning ruthlessly merciless
Brutal reality making a zany mockery of my worship
What callous vicious ensorcellment tears me from my fantasy
And what if I choose to proclaim my nights as my reality
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on August 15, 2018 for contest EIGHT WORD CHALLENGE-8 sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 2ND
Toying with the summer breeze.
Free... not a care in the world.
Falcon circling among the clouds.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
The only thing better than being a rose is to be with the dwelling flower in the bed of roses While the aroma flourishes upon the hour What I suppose is Roses come up smelling like a rose ! ! ! ! ! !
I live my life vicariously,
Through everyone else’s eyes.
I live my life through every low
And every one of the highs.
It began when I was a child,
I’d live like batman every day.
Pretending I was by his side,
Cutting and weaving as I play.
My teens, I was the movie star,
Robert de Niro, an extreme survivor.
That’s when I was the skin head, Bickle,
The paranoid vigilante Taxi Driver.
By my 20’s my kids success at
Debates and sports became my badge.
I was there to remind folks how proud I was,
Cleaning and bandaging every scratch.
My 30’s I walked like the enigmatic Jack White,
Of Detroit garage rock stance.
This phase didn’t last long though,
Couldn’t play the guitar, or even dance.
Now my 40’s, I don’t need actors or musicians,
To show I’m a flamboyant musical fighter.
I just feign that I know how to scrawl like the bard,
Living vicariously through poetic writers.
A new landscape presents itself upon waking.
Places that were dreams drift outward.
Past becomes present; stars earth; flight, a grounded stride.
I might assess these thoughts as if I have a choice -
as if I might climb back into slumber; reestablish a cloud,
reshape a fog already escaping.
Thoughts of coffee with cream creep in,
old latticework mends itself even as I try to stop it.
"Reality, it's not for me, and it makes me laugh." Ha.
FORGET IT. May as well shower and get on with it.
Yet along the drive, my mind keeps wandering...
Will I ever catch that dream again?
Two chairs stare from across the room,
leaning on each other like worn puzzle pieces,
mine, towards the front where I often
perch in anticipation of life, yours,
decidedly towards the right where
you lean in anticipation of me.
shallow veil shrouding
threaded dreams woven deeply
virtuous disguise
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