We are the wild hearts,
we are not the weak,
we are the strong,
we have come to consume,
the weak, the evil, with fire,
we will not break, we will not bend,
forwards we charge,
heart first into battle,
injury and death make us stronger,
we are here to purge the earth,
only love shall remain, selah.
fawn breaks a glass pond
snoozed snout by a toad posing
gauged flight perturbed gnat
I look like the wild child of Borneo
My hair is all over the place
It sticks out like a distorted tree
I inherited this mess from my Daddy
It grows a foot or two a day
In every direction
Even directions that were not invented yesterday
It is thick and stubborn
Combs have given up
So wild child of Borneo I shall remain
High on a quaint little hill,
In a quiet, quaint little town.
Wild Orchids, once plentiful,
Were nowhere to be found.
It was a mystery to all there,
So sad, such beauty, now gone.
What once blessed their vision,
Amber sunsets, golden dawns.
A pall fell upon the town,
All their sunsets disappeared.
Such beauty lost, bred sorrow,
As another Winter drew near.
Then tragedy struck the land!
War ravaged their small township.
All young men were called away,
All the women knelt in worship.
Time seemed to wane wearily,
Anxious hearts feared the worst.
Then news came of twelve casualties,
And every heart there would burst.
Twelve, flag-draped coffins, carried,
Every young man, bred and born.
A million tears would rain,
Every broken heart would mourn.
The Winter, bleak and barren,
Each day just like the last...cold!
A lifeless, loveless town died,
Unsure of what would unfold.
When, on a bright and infant morn,
The whole town flocked in waves.
By the light of Spring's first day...
Wild Orchids lined the graves!
Ignored wounds
do not bleed at once,
but when touched for cure
they ache longer than they should,
reminding us how silence gathers dust
inside the body.
It is not that love is feared,
only that sometimes
its arrival feels unnecessary
like an extra flame
in a room already warm.
Still, a newborn’s breath
teaches another language of affection,
a fragile trust resting
in the hollow of two palms.
Love moves gently,
care bends like grass in wind,
affection lingers in corners
where no one thought to look.
And the hands--
they rise as sky,
they fold as umbrella,
they open as shelter.
One gesture,
a thousand meanings,
all carrying us
a little further away from hurt.
Yes, I’m the cute little pooch,
You treat like a substitute child,
Domesticated and to some extent,
By breeding, I’m pedigree styled,
But don’t ignore my ancestral line,
For I still listen to the call of the wild,
And in my heart I’m still a wolf
And this wolf can be easily riled.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me lose my mind—
blowing kisses to the empty air,
talking to an unoccupied car seat,
whispering goodnight
to a picture frame.
Holding your urn tightly,
feeling my heart beating
in sync with yours.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me be the wild one—
still wearing your ring,
laughing at your jokes
only I can understand,
weaving our memories
into every corner
of this hollowed world.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then let me stay mad—
a woman who refuses
to amputate her own heart,
a woman who loves
like death forgot
to close the door.
Let me dance with your spirit
beneath the invisible stars—
spinning inside the love we built,
the love not even death
can unravel.
If still loving you with all my heart
makes me crazy,
then I will be wild forever—
gloriously,
tenderly,
fiercely yours,
until the stars themselves
forget how to burn.
I'm a wild nomadic rocker
stratocaster guitar is my one true friend
~ trailblazing through this lifelong journey
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Sand Dunes Hiku
stretches of sand dunes
blown away by wild winds~
nature`s piece of art
d
e . . t d . . . u
r . . . . c n . . . . . . . n
t . . . . . . . e a . . . . . . . . . e
s . . . . . . . . . . s o ~f s . . . . . . . . . . s
\ \ s \ \~
\ \ w \ \ / / d / / \ \ d \ \
\ \ a \ \ / / l / / \ \ n \ \
\ \ w \ \ / / i / / \ \ i \ \
b ~l o~ w ~n \ \ a \ \ b ~y / / w / / \ \ w \ \
n -a –t -u-r-e-`s p- I- e- c- e o-f a- r- t.
In the rain shadow of Majave Desert I eat hot sand
I am singing with their Death Valley
I have allowed them to build my faith under a Joshua Tree
& I feel a pain in the little finger
leaning towards a withered language
I maintain the hollow of the dirty sky
I am split between the Great Basin & Province & the Sonoran Desert where the dark tower is a grave
from one hole to another I seal the capital of decaying with anesthesia
A boy all alone, with Binky in tow
In search of that place where the wild things grow
No compass in hand to say where to go
An innocent child would already know
He traveled by day and traveled by night
By the sun's red glow and the full moon's light
Bravely forged ahead with untrammeled sight
The sheer audacity of this lads plight
Over hill and dale, what progress he made
Determined he trudged over field and glade
Near the end of hope, the boy kneeled and prayed
Resting only now under forest shade
I want to stay here, teach me what you know
Please Lord, I have no other place to go
Now this child of four, Binky still in tow
Will live in the woods where the wild things grow
He disappeared into the forest
losing himself in the
trees & vines
What he leaves behind
are memories rooted in time
in the minds of those
he's left behind
His soul cries releasing
silent tears from eyes
that have seen different
but not greener pastures
They've captured an essence
of life that many
will never grasp
Through his eyes he sees
the whole world in his hands
& holds tight to
global visions that arise
Scenes are being manipulated
to capture minds within
the masses
unaware of the lies
It matters not how many lies
the world tells
he knows the language
it speaks but chooses to hide
The meek seek to inherit
what only the strong
are meant to have
in time
but can they see
the signs?
His sad eyes aren't just
a reflection of the pain he
hides but are windows
open to views
He's viewed a naked world
that covers hues & sees it for
what it is
because he knows
it's nude
Uncovered it can't hide
from eyes that see the ruse
from top to bottom
It hides truth under trees
that have blossomed
because the forest
is thick
Even so he sees what's been
planted in rich soil
to grow with
designs to trick
Did you hear?
What was that?
The wild wind?
Here I stand,
with flowers,
all colors.
A rose talks,
lilies sing,
cactus cry.
THAT START OF THE DETERMINED KID
THAT DASH OF THE CURIOUS YOUNG INTERPID
I HAVE COME FAR NOW
NO GOD I FOUND , TO NOBODY'S LOVE I BOW
FROM COUNTLESS EXISTING PATHS WE CAN
TAKE ONLY ONE
I AM HERE, WHERE THERE IS NOONE
CONVERSATIONS ARE NOW FEW
I DON'T KNOW ANYONE WHO IS NEW
EVEN MY POEMS DON'T RHYME NOW
MAY BE THEY DON'T WANT TO ...
Out comes the storm
In a galloping parade
Of silver and iron
Honour masking the greed of men
In the rattling and dim wilderness
The rituals and the songs
Are ready to be extinguished
By those who rule over gods
And then a fatal sob
Pierces through the still ether
And the keepsakes of ages
Are washed away in a river the colour of blood
- A paradise is lost
And she dashed out of that darkness
Leaving behind her potions
And the archeology of knowledge
Clotted with blood of the wise and the heathen
Sacrificed onto an unfaithful god
On top of a sun-brimming temple
But the men came for her
As they always do
Filled with lust and rage
Gnawing, ripping, mutilating
That dark sacred flesh
Discarded on the wet ground
And she strode deeper and deeper
The wild one of her tribe
With only traces of echoes
Of the only voices she had known
But there are no voices here
They remain only as effigies
On dirty marble of the victors
- Silencio.
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