be daring, be bold, be yourself always
be fearless in everything you do
throw yourself into your own truth
brazenly blaze a new way
listen to your voices
imagination
party hearty
reinvent
create
play
Sometimes I think.
Sometimes I feel.
Sometimes I listen.
And sometimes,
sometimes comes.
And maybe
sometimes
it's real.
It's the doers that will do something in this world
The past it haunts with a heavy presence those idle souls
they sat back as the future of the next generation is stolen
The calling card boils down to those that breathe fresh air
remembering a quote which held me in thought
That peace was the enemy of memory
the wicked stand confounded framed by deeds
There is a spiritual war taking place backwards moving forward
how far down the ladder do we go before stepping up
Hate devours love examining the truth if it were to turn face
respect has lost all communication when fighting this beast
unrepentant it suffers the agony throwing bitterness to the fowl
When it crows it worms its way around sympathy
wicked it claws for acceptance never seeing guilty as justice
it hides with the sloth always seeking but never finding
On the tombstone carved once bitten twice shy
here lies the remains of a broken child
whom sold by actions a nation down the river
She stays up way past midnight,
just checking on your breathing.
She keeps your terrible drawings
taped up like priceless art.
She lets you spill your mess,
your worries, your endless questions,
and somehow makes room for all of it in her small, tired heart.
She’s the one who holds you
when the world feels far too big,
the one who roots for you when nobody else shows up.
Even when you walk away to build a life of your own,
she’s still standing in the driveway, waving until you’re out of sight.
The surest way to failure is to exceed one's physical and noetic capabilities.
Demetrios Trifiatis
04 October 2026
-
As always,
I would like to share the honor of the POTD with all my fellow poets who were
so gracious as to visit and congratulate me.
I would also like to thank the PoetrySoup officials for the honor. Blessings to all.
he runs toward danger in an eager way
puppy’s mode of operation every day
Call me on, I need to know
How it goes so far away
If you send me your hello
I’d be knowing you’re OK
Give me little reassurance
Just a sign from the unknown
That would be a great occurrence
I shall keep it to my own
If you tell me where you are
I’d be following your way
It could be you’re not too far
Maybe closer with each day..
It sits there, motionless, buried under unread mail in the drawer,
The once-sharp scissors my dad brought from his childhood home in Nepal,
Its blades now rusty, dull, and sore,
It sits there, motionless, waiting for a final call.
It waits through slammed doors, late-night apologies, and birthdays,
Eager for a chance to get picked up and put to work,
Just like it did in my dad's college days,
It waits patiently, preventing itself from bursting like a firework.
It holds its breath in the dark,
Yearning for a warm and loving hand,
Like the one that packed it and crossed the world to leave its mark,
It holds its breath, hopeful for a future in this new land.
For now, the drawer remains shut,
Where our family's Nepali history leaves its silver trace,
There lie resilient blades that time failed to cut,
Resting quietly in this loud, chaotic place.
the day begins at morning light
rooster crowing, terrific sight
five to six is this time of day
wake up wake up, it’s time to play
your stomach growls at half past noon
not the liquor, it’s much too soon
soup and salad, excellent choice
add devils food cake, extra moist
timetable is your decision
fulfilling your unique vision
wipe away all despair and gray
dip yourself in prayer, quick sashay
dance, skip, hop, jump, learn your own tune
reach for the stars, swing from the moon
marvelous day, put out the light
sleep well my darling, nighty night
CHEMIN FAISANT
With every season I strove to stay on the lit path.
I tried the best I could, expectantly; at least I thought so.
Synclines and anticlines, chemin faisant, the Prize forefront.
I knew He went before, to light up the Way.
With smiles, groans modulating the smiles, I did follow.
The secrets of the Saints I wished I knew, for reassurance.
Some gains, loss at their heels; yet pressing on, quite determined.
I knew that by His grace I’d keep to His Way.
Swerving from pesky promptings,
I chose ma Verite´ et mon Chemin, la Vie pour moi.
The lit path, His very Way;
Net forward trudge along the perfect highway.
Le Prix; chemin faisant, el premio es el Sen~or.
He’s Love; He doesn’t fail; ecce *****who shows me the Way.
His arms outstretched for me; welcoming me with holy embrace.
Lucid invitation, nudge to embrace Grace.
Car nul ne vient la? que par Lui; gaping gate on Easter morn.
Slowed by the plod, yet heart pounding, and empowered by His Grace;
Gleefully, I made it there by following His Way.
The Perfection Way.
THE BABY WHO CRIED WAY TOO LOUD
There was a baby in Kochi town,
In a cradle of wood, lying down,
Who wailed “oh shi!” with endless might
, And won the medal for loudest cry!
His voice rang out both far and near,
Through Gujarat streets, Jaipur clear,
It echoed in Delhi’s bustling bazaar,
Like thunder booming from afar.
He cried and cried, the people prayed,
For silence, peace, a calm cascade.
His mother stuffed her ears with care,
Cotton buds to save her hearing there.
Crowds arrived from far and wide,
To see the baby’s sonic tide.
Windows cracked, bangles broke,
As if the earth itself had spoke!
James the tourist came to see,
His ears bled from the baby’s plea.
Aunt poured oil to soothe the pain,
But still the cries began again.
At last, on day six, came the cat,
Catter the clever, catty cat.
She leapt inside the cradle bed,
And massaged the baby’s neck instead.
The baby paused, began to purr,
It loved the gentle paws on fur.
And after a decade, peace was found,
returned to the village ground.
I plead,
Weigh not my heart,
With lil’ rest and help nought,
I plead again, weigh not, my heart.
Weigh not..
Is what we have all too good to be true?
Is it too much I want to always be with you?
Our love reminds me why I shall carry on through.
Your voice, your smile free me from feeling blue.
Am I really unfairly expecting too much,
When I say I always need to feel your touch.
As much as I want you here every day and night;
A weekly basis makes us fonder, so it's alright.
Is what I feel for you, what you feel for me too?
Are you the one for me, and am I the one for you?
I realized you're the one my soul was waiting for.
I just hope you also feel we have met before.
Am I right to feel we are the same rays of light?
Am I right to feel I cannot insult you in any fight?
Is it too much if I say you're perfect in every way?
For me, you are my safe harbour in life's bay.
Love does not walk
Hand in hand
On a one way street.
She had already
Turned the corner
There was someone else to meet.
Like wafts of sorrow
Interrupting the day
The Earth is shaking
This can't be THE WAY
How can light deliver darkness
To one who walks in TRUTH
Why would WISDOM
Clothe LOVE in grief since youth
The journey seems...paradoxical
Trying to make peace with chaos
In a constant state of restoration
Building materials taken from all loss
The fight is fading out of matter
The loosh has no energy to take
Fear perishes in the presence
Of what LOVE has never declared...MISTAKE
...all is as it should be
Written by Trudy Schrader on 09-04-2026
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