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My father, rise up from your slumber, Defy the chains of death’s decay, Let not corruption hold you, Since it stole your breath away.




Rise and haunt my private musings, And forever guide my choice, In your absence, yet keep close, Beset me with your voice.




I need your trusted aegis, To banish infant fears, Though the clock’s relentless ticking, Has aged me past your years.




In silence, we coexist, Our secrets softly lie, Rise again, father, visit me, Linger, tarry, utter not goodbye.
When we lose a parent, they are never gone from our thoughts, their remembered words and secrets are with us for all of our lives.
© BonnieBayGallery 2025
I awake

at the window

a star blinks its cold eye

it is unfeeling, unseeing,

silent and indifferent.

yet I carve for myself some merit in it,

some significance.



The planet, indeed the universe

is not distracted in it's turning.

Not for me, not for you,

nor the millions of breaths that rise and fall.



Perhaps we see our existence as a tide

eroding some crumbling shore.

Yes there is a patient inevitability.

But if a star can fade peacefully and die

leaving only emptiness

Then should I suppose I matter.



Yes, I insist

I craft for myself a rebellion,

however inconsequential and fleeting.

I laugh into the void, like a struck match

weakly holding back the silent blackness.



The eternal ground beneath me rumbles

"you are nothing."

Yet still I hold my chest high

in folly I conjecture with my imperfect hands.

Cups of tea poured with ceremony.



I will write, I will create, I will build

I will love fiercely, in silent defiance.

The delusion only serves to magnify the audacity.
Exploring the existential theme of finding any meaning and purpose amidst cosmic indifference. Implying building civilizations, creating art and loving are the true rebellion to emptiness
I scrolled through the world on a glowing screen,  
Where faces smile but none are seen.  
A thousand "friends" with a flick of my thumb,  
but my heart is still lonely, heavy, and numb.

I sent a "LOL" to a blinking face,  
But the laughter? It lingered in no known place.  
The hugs were emojis, the laughs acronyms  
A hollow façade, cheap digital whims.

So I asked my phone, "What’s wrong with me?"  
It buzzed and it hummed and said, "Let’s see…"  
"You’ve got followers, likes, a profile so bright,  
But maybe you’re missing what’s out of sight?"

I wondered aloud, "What do you mean?  
I’ve got all the gadgets and a touchscreen."  
The phone just blinked, and offered no aid,  
The battery dimmed and hope was decayed

So I stepped outside with hesitant feet,  
The air was real, the sun kissed my cheek.  
But what if a stranger my presence espied
Better not risk it, I’m going inside.

I rang up a mate, just to hear them say,
“Wow” it’s been so long! Let’s meet up today."  
No filters, no captions, no polished display,  
Just stories and laughter to fill up the grey.

By the lake where the willows gracefully bend,  
We spoke about nothing, but it still seemed to mend.  
My fears took flight, like birds set free,  
And the world felt vast, yet still kind to me.

But even so, when the sun slipped away,  
And I found myself alone at the end of the day,  
It seemed to me, that we all blindly dance  
Fleeting connections left up to chance."

It’s the paradox, the great in-between,  
Of a world that’s both digital and unseen.
Counting likes to a meaningless prize  
I yearn just to matter in somebody’s eyes .

So I’ll take the tech, but I’ll tread with care,  
And seek the moments that make life rare.  
A screen can’t hold you, nor replace the touch,  
But balance is everything—it matters so much.

So here I stand, a creature of two,  
Caught in the old, the new, the true.  
I’ll scroll a bit, then I’ll put it away,  
and live, and love, in a human way.
This verse explores the paradox of living in a hyper-connected yet isolating digital world.
In response to a post of Jordan Peterson, the famous motivational writer


There are many valid reasons for being silent--

some thoughts are best left to oneself.
We are still creatures,
bound by the rules of logic,
superficial commitments
boil the truth.
Make the jump,
but only with full grasp!
Am I losing important links?

Is it that my intuition
is screaming?
Or is it just dry envy
whispering
that I am too weak
to be so good?
Am I seeing something more?
Or was it just the usual nightmare?

The realm of values
and the physical world
is being distorted like
Dalí’s dream.

My nightly vision was so clear:
Something was absorbing
thoughts of human beings,
under smooth talks,
tender words.

They left the untouched bodies
and the skulls white.

All were made
to break down the structure
from the inside.
What are the hidden reasons,
on a small and larger scale?

We live by metaphors,
blindly believing
that the reason is still strong.
But some things only appear innocent,
shaping sharp rocks.
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