The stream (all workshops)
One Sunday evening I remember,
Just a little before night ‘twas exactly twilight.
I walked till I found this chick
Trying hopelessly: jumping, hopping and squealing
Hoping to get out of the gutter hole
In which mother hen has left her
After so many failures in bringing her out, or so I thought.
I would help her out,
But my weary legs would not yield to my mind;
Because I like the chick is trapped and shackled in the dark
Prison of my thoughts;
Shouting, screaming and stretching forth my hands
I'm drifting to dream
Falling wounds opened tonight
Awake to sunshine
Soul mates exist
between two people
committed to each other
Not looking at greener pastures
something fresh
but freshen up one you vowed
Through rough and tough
happy and joyous
and going is to a scrawl
You're about to throw in the towel
call it quits but then you don't
you stick it out with your soul mate
Alpha Delta Kilo
Zero fivers three
Requesting for start up
Start up approved
Ready for take off
In position cleared
Take off runway two-two
Departure right on course
Roger…
Control tower print out published
Brought sad memoirs of the inferno
Nom de plume reduced to ashes
Mocked our mean attempt to excel
Queried the way we do things here
I look back at the disasters
I see the elusive hand of fate
A decade of recycled woes
roster
slim shake getter
the purple morning
is a room beneath your
view
the moon swallows
the dreams
against the width
of oval ovid true
immense this hue
the laugh a whisper
the lavendar theory
held broken in pockets
listerine and Tina
greyhound ghosts
curb the crisp helio lisp
while sun ignites your
crepuscular smile
we walked the magic mile
losing wavelengths
on magnetic tape
all those songs you
said you've come to hate
sensuous slide of candiru
microgram of the guinea worm
established vectors of swine flu.
ebola's soul in frightful form
of the pandemics something more
duet required, eyes glazed with hell
vectors unleash the oozing sore
and we all kindly open cell
two to four and four to eight grow
nibbling faster through us they go
cures obscure and circus lure blow
hucksters twitch from the tree moon's glow
From my chin a hair is sprouting
My cracks need a bit of grouting
I’m often seen plastered
This ladylike thing I haven’t quite mastered
But I’m good for a bit of craic
Of laughter there is no lack
I’ve been told I’m incorrigible
But I think I’m loveable
I’m always going to be a rogue
Achilles heels I have to poke
Sensitive souls mightn’t like my humour
But that might be a nasty rumour
Then again I’m a bit of a divil-may-care
So if you don’t like it stay outta my hair
I live in the spirtworld..
Where wrath of time
Is prose impearled
Take my pen and paint your shore
Sixteen pence
Is twice two four
Commence your golden shaded lore
And shape my words
To tend no more
Dalai Lama…
Not for gridlocks all between our china politic taking some debaters come from Japan. Fishing islands as called are lands of china.
Facts are true as Tibet lands belong to DALAI LAMA.
DALAI LAMA philosophic white lies mention pains are no the same as suffers.
DALAI LAMA needs to fetch the facts as TIBET must belong to his tribes.
TIBETAN Buddhism manifests gods of mercy all by religion dressings.
Who will help the body minds or spiritual powers?
The priest and the raven
Catholic and Pagan
Shared time
In the garden of men
The priest dreamed of heaven
Lasting redemption
Immaculate conception
Virginal women
Honoured, beloved and blessed
But also remembered
Hot days in the sun
Barefoot and naked
And exuberant, spirited sex
And the raven flew
Black feathered and searching
High above earth
Overhead
Cracking the bones of the living
Snapping the bones of the dead
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.