The chessboard stretches, black and white,
Too many pawns crowd every fight.
Resources dwindle, tempers flare,
Too many hands grasp thinning air.
The planners meet in silent halls,
Their charts and graphs like ancient walls.
They speak in terms both cold and clean—
"Efficient means," not "cruel" or "mean."
A gentle nudge, a softened blow,
Less birth, less war, more death below.
No famines loud, no bombs to shake—
Just medicine we do not make.
Subtle are the tools of fate,
Disguised in law, in boardroom weight.
The world, they say, must be more small—
But never start with us at all.
lack of confidence
presents herself as haughty
stuck up and aloof
he’s got a face like a rotted pear,
eyes yellow as the bottom of a cheap pint glass.
his hands move like old leather belts—
cracked, heavy, well-worn.
he counts the minutes like coins
dropped in a greasy pocket—
clinks them together—
a smile as sour as sweat on a Monday morning.
he watches me,
one boot on the scaffold’s edge,
smoke curling from his lips
like something alive,
like the ghost of all the men before me—
he’s seen it all:
the tremble, the prayer,
the final piss soaking the gallows floor.
he knows I was born for this,
born to hang,
and he’s got nothing else better to do.
Some people think they can do wrong,
offer no apology, then just share time
Does pretending it never happened erase it?
For the other, it remains a weight, it hurts
Issues, always reaching in empty air for closure
How does one forgive with no acknowledgement?
It's really not difficult to tell the truth
But, it's hard for the person who will never forget
Heidi Sands
5/5/25
(C)opyright
Like Napoleon, I was born.
He led the French army,
I made sure the sheep got shorn.
And while I was covered deeply in sheep's doo,
he met his Waterloo.
And when on Saint Helena he died,
none of my sheep cried.
Food is provided
To an industrious hand
That land always blessed.
He is calm, a gentle sound,
In his future we're like staying in cemetery
Softly whispers to the heart,
From the noise, it sets diversely
Peace is Encounter in quiet sounding bed
In the smiles on gorgeous faces.
It’s a walk in nature’s path
Where the worries fade away.
Hold to peace, it’s pure and real
Brings a sense of calmness to you.
In its arms, find sweet release,
Life is better with some peace.
the lack of empathy
Old people are made to feel
it is their duty to die and give
room for a new generation
of fewer and fewer births
The right to abortion is, by law
every woman's right
Henceforward survivors will
have shining bikes, playground
is of a past not revisited
A world inhabited by monsters
What a tragedy
Nothing but life
No love just reality
People making promises
They say they'll keep
But I've been wondering
Where's the loyalty
Mindless sayings and
Heartless love
Who on earth are
We supposed to trust
Family supposedly
The best remedy
But really just
a lot of misery
Must I be chosen? To even arrive here?
And since my arrival, I've seen girls dressed in bright colors.
Their ankles shown, through the skirts delight.
Tell me, since the sun shines bright,
why don't I know what suits me?
When raining begins,
why does my face seem to not fit the hat I wanted to wear?
As if I gained weight?
As storms start to not hide anymore behind the clouds surface, tell me,
Was I always so clumsy and stupid?
Just when snowflakes begin to freeze my face and make me shut, tell me,
why do I feel for the first time,
chosen?
Have you heard my unsteady voice screaming in delight from across the room?
When I force my fists to cool till they feel numb?
When I build snowmans till my hands shake in red.
Till the wounds open again because the snowball has gotten sharp, and the blood fleeds.
Tell me,
would you have stopped near me?
Or choose rather death, while you slight down the street with above 60km/h with gods disapproval?
My strung-out limbs grow like plants
Head in the clouds, toes with the ants
Branches sprout, leaves strewn about,
Now I’m walkin’ ‘round with an utter lack of pants
My eyes swirl like big lollipops
Cogs and wheels, they just won’t stop
Sugar melts, candy belts
Now I’m full of air like a cold can of pop
My propeller spins on my funny hat
I float away, to never come back
Heavy body, I fall out of the sky
Now I’m on the ground and I just want to cry
My skinned knees bleed through my jeans
Drawing eyes, I only displease
I stumble not walk, I struggle to talk
Now I’m nothing more than a can of dead fleas
I go to bed at three,
I usually wait beneath the plum tree,
That tree is useless like my name,
You and I are in a blissful game!
You are too sweet for me,
Never lived inside me as if you were a great flea,
You are too weak for me,
Never spent a day without thinking of me!
But do you care who I am?
Do you know what it means to be my charm?
Are you my affluent appetite?
I am never your desired guide.
I am the master of manners to you,
I was not willing to sacrifice my mind for you,
You are always ready to make a voyage with me,
I never think of you that we can be a cherished memory.
My coffee never turns cold when you are sitting beside me,
Sleep tight until the sun rises in your daydream,
You do not need to discern what's inside my head,
I am on another trip just before you wake up and call me the beheaded.
The lemonade I drink is sour,
reminds me of my childhood,
the sugar was not spilled before my feet,
while I was conquering the barren land of life -
on which I was walking,
mom and dad say the sweet life is expensive,
but we always had sugar in the kitchen vitrine,
I guess for guests, what do I know.
Come to think of it, this lemonade is full of sugar.
Abandoned kitchen table -lack of family togetherness
rain
dissipated swiftly
disappearing, evaporating, scattering
dry clouds blew over
torrentless
Written: 6/5/23
I used the type of form where it is the number of words per line:
1, 2, 3, 4, 1
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