Poetic breadcrumbs
Tossed into the air
Blown about by errant winds
Pecked at by bloated pigeons
Debated by chattering squirrels
And yet I sit with crumpled bag
Knowing I will return again
Replenishing the hope
That what little I offer
Is a gift for us all
The words are arguing
A mock debate
No rebuttal
A juxtapositional comparison
Of mirrored images
Seeking definition
The days weigh on me
An aged rudder struggles
To maintain a fading course
Yellowed sails doubting the breeze
Tremble as the shallows near
The landmarks seem more distant
The destination less definite
Joy remains
Yawning in the shadows
Sighing as it listens
To the chatter of life
Dancing in its memories
I walk in the door
And the weight hits me in the chest
It doesn't weigh on my shoulders
It isn't heavy on my head
The crushing weight
Sits squarely on my heart
They say Home is where the heart is
Pithy wisdom, accepted everywhere
But these days the house is empty
And home is no longer found
In that vacant rundown structure
Because my heart is no longer there
I realize I've spent my life homeless
Wandering without purpose
Aimless, almost hopeless
But now everything has changed
And I savor those precious moments
When I finally feel safe
I've never felt so at home
As I do when I'm with you
At first I couldn't figure out
Why everything felt so different
Then I realized they were right all along
Home is where my heart is
2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 26
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
Contest Judged: 11/7/2025 2:03:00 PM
( 7th Place )
Written: October 9, 2025
I reach the edge of my hardest days…
Whispers coil around my ankles.
Debts coil and reach like old trees,
their branches scraping the walls where I once lived.
Whispers drift through the air,
the earth rough beneath my feet.
A harsh voice fills the silence,
and greed snuffs out even the smallest kindness.
The pressure tightens around my days.
Shadowed hands weigh on my shoulders,
testing the quiet strength I carry,
I carry myself forward, breath after breath.
I remain in this forge of trial.
Flames lick the edges of my spirit.
My hardest enemy is often the mirror;
my own hands, my own doubt
pulling me toward the chasm.
They cast their nets…
trying to trap my work, my name, my light.
The hush lasts just for a heartbeat.
I walk forward - not for open doors,
but because my heart will not bend,
because the spark inside me burns.
The paper gate is behind me.
Morning light spreads across the sky.
The road ahead is open.
I earned it with every step I took.
Today I learned
that being me
always here for you,
always yours in intimacy
was never enough.
I did not give you
the peace your soul was searching for.
It shatters my heart…
how did we come to this?
I learned today
you were looking for comfort
in someone else’s words,
and all this time
I thought I was your world.
Have I taken you for granted?
Was it my fault all along?
I gave everything I had,
but maybe I was giving
all the wrong things.
I love you so deeply
that sometimes I wonder…
If I can’t make you happy,
maybe I should let you go.
Maybe if I were with someone
I didn’t love,
I wouldn’t weigh on his soul.
And you..
you’d be with someone
who doesn’t love you like I do,
but maybe
she’d give you peace.
And then…
we would both have peace.
But would I ever be happy?
If I found peace
and you found peace…
does that truly
mean happiness?
Being a mother to adult sons is wonderful
and hard and everything in between
I am a hard praying, hard fighting, mama
when I need to be, but I am also a soft
spoken, sweet encourager when it warrants
Mental Illness and Substance use have made
my role harder and more needed than many
moms of grown men, but I am just thankful
that I still have the role of mother to both of my
amazing sons, because it has come close too many times
It feels like I am fighting death for my son's life
and I will FIGHT for him. I will show up when he
needs me, even when the sight is something that
no mother should have to see and I have sat in
hospital rooms way, too often
I feel like I am also fighting for my son that is not
ill, but has a heavier burden to carry due to his brother's
condition. Such heavy issues weigh on a person's heart
and can cause so much emotional pain, but I promise,
I will pray and fight for my sons as long as I have breath.
Words weigh on the page,
Seeking form, a perfect fit,
Beauty under strain.
©bfa042425
By Imran Ahmed
The Grave Looms Like A Storm On The Horizon
Its Darkness Wraps Around Me Like A Heavy Cloak
I Think Of It And My Eyes Lose Their Luster
As Fear Gnaws At My Soul Like A Starving Beast
They Say The Earth Below Is A Hornet’s Nest
Where Snakes Lie In Wait And Scorpions Lurk In The Shadows
Their Sting Is The Last Nail In The Coffin For The Sinful
A Reckoning Written In Stone Unyielding And Cruel
Fear Grips Me Like A Vice Shaking Me To The Core
For My Sins Weigh On Me Like Chains I Cannot Break
My Body Is A Leaf In The Wind Trembling Before Fate
Yet My Faith Is A Rock That No Tide Can Erode
He Who Pulled Me From The Jaws Of Despair
Who Put Food On My Plate When The Cupboard Was Bare
Will Not Leave Me To Be A Sitting Duck In The Dark
The Grave’s Night Will Fade Its Terrors Will Turn To Dust
And His Light Will Lead Me To Sleep As Sound As A Child.
O lord, deep sorrows weigh on my heart,
You created me,
Where shall I go?
Without you, To whom would I share my sorrows,
I am a white flower in the garden of Autumn: scentless, colorless, and etiolated.
I too wish to bloom in the garden of verdure.
O lord; embrace and bear hug me,
I am broken, a wanderer, and aimless.
My life is abandoned, everyone. Everyone came.
They bruised, battered, and blighted me, went and left me solo in the garden of Autumn.
My sepals and blanched petals whimper there,
O lord; If you won't rescue me,
I think the white flower may die in the garden in Autumn.
I know I am a colossal sinner and sins have dimmed away my beauty and charm,
I don't want to die being a sinner.
If I died, I would die like a waste then,
If so, how can I stand in front of you? I can't endure it and would feel ashamed.
O lord; look at my garden of Autumn and transform it into the garden of spring.
Let me perform the elegant deeds,
and then I wished to die
Happier than the morning sun,
Isn’t that the way that life should be done?
I’m also disappointed to note.
That lately the poet's writings are devoid of hope,
they are all poems of trauma and strife.
I’m still Happier than the morning sun,
Isn’t that the way that life should be done?
I’m also disappointed to note.
That lately the poet's writings are devoid of hope,
They are all poems of trauma and strife.
Of late I’m more aware of my own mortality,
Man is not meant to be alone.
I need love badly,
my hearts not made of stone.
In order to find true love,
the first place where love must exist in your own.
The search for love is a lot like, looking for stars in a daytime sky.
As the loneliness mounts, it can weigh on your pride.
You find you can’t drown out the sound,
of loneliness with bad tv and wine.
I’m still Happier than the morning sun,
Isn’t that the way that life should be done?
I’m also disappointed to note.
That lately the poet's writings are devoid of hope.
They are all poems of trauma and strife.
Until you are affixed permanently by my side
I guess I'll have to cultivate happiness inside.
They’ve come.
Because they heard,
Heard the great tale of my life.
But I’m not dead.
Wait for that,
I won’t be here to fix your changes.
Oh great steed,
All these years,
They weigh on you most.
My beloved – I am sorry.
I cannot remember everything,
But you were never out of sight.
Never out of my mind.
I have won all we set out for,
But I still have a wish.
That I’d loved and cared for you then, As I do now.
Perhaps then, you’d look at me with compassion.
Perhaps then, my beloved, I’d be yours.
Tired dreams weigh on fairy wings,
the pixie dust needs a recharge;
Sparkles stir and mix solitarily
a spell woven with imagination;
The pixie dust needs a recharge,
magic gains strength in times of calm;
No longer weary the power grows;
Sparkles stir and mix solitarily
letting everything heavy go;
She floats as she flies on pointe;
A spell woven with imagination
her head in her hands a feather;
Simply said ‘There is no impossible.’
Needs must
A stairway to heaven or the gateway to hell?
Will feelings stay with us? Only time passed will tell.
As I sit in the graveyard lost lives hear my call,
They sing “Will you join us? Come one or come all”
A breeze slowly passes while the yews bend and sway
The time angled headstones look up at the day.
Lives long forgotten, names faded and worn
Some died in their sleep, others battered and torn,
Now together they lay while their lives span the years
Fond memories hidden no more heartaches or tears.
Yet deep in my soul I can still feel their pain
And the hate that was passed on from Able to Cain,
Past sins come unheeded of violence and greed
That weigh on my mind in this moment of need.
Mostly my journey was unplanned
I would fall into stuff
Or get pushed into it kicking and screaming
God had a plan
I never did
Things that weigh on me are mistakes
I thought I would never repeat again
But I kept repeating them again and again
And I will again
Because I trust everybody
In my heart I always know that if you are kind
others will be too, and yes, they do pretend
Some of them but not all
Because some simply
are not kind
But do I get that? No. I do not.
My life has been a series of
I don’t want to do that! I do not like her!
I do not like him! And yet, part of me always does
I kind of like everybody.
I am a giant puppy.
I will not change.
I will always jump in your lap
Begging you to take me home and love me.
I think it is because I started out not feeling loved.
She still pulls enough strength to keep going
Despite the tedious roles that weigh on her shoulders
She does not complain about her troubles
Neither does she brag about her blessings
She is a true emblem of bravery
She would dare a tigress
To just have her child breathe one more time
She love surpasses the usual
For she is a true angel
She braves the early morning cold
And the evening storm
For her devotion to her family
God bless our mothers
"The man in the moon
will welcome you soon
To rest your head
In the comfort of your bed
Under his watchful eye,
To dreamland you will fly
Leaving today behind,
I hope it was kind,
To you, so your flight tonight
Will make tomorrow alright
As you soar past the moon,
Recite your prayers to remain in tune
To the reason we are here,
And why we keep God near
For in him we live,
For another day to give
Our simple gifts,
For hearts to lift
The burdens what weigh on us,
Because in God we trust."
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