The stream (all workshops)
what ever you may say
I shall entice you one day
the charm of a woman
none can resist
no matter how much
one does persist.
I will entice you one day,
if it is not today,
at least
some other day
with all the experience
behind my years
I know by now
what only a girl can do
without any fear,
no matter what her intentions be
her lover that can never see…
how I’ll entice
you’ll never know,
for every guy has a price….
Littleton by RW
Littleton's fun was to torture his son
The hearth fire roared but of heat there was none
space where old angers restore, cold, unwon
paths worn ancient scorn, past hurts redone
old man clutched his cloak of stained and worn dun
sweat poured small rivers, he could not outrun
grave in back yard guarded by Littleton
if death is pain's surcease he's just begun
one exploded expansively
into silent splinters
sending prismatic whole fragments
of holographic completeness
through the perfection of
the Pillars of Knowledge
spiralling
tumbling
falling
into the manifest of
the Mirror of Forgetfulness
for-as-much we desired
to look ourself in the face
so deed answered thought
and since it is impossible
to view the whole at the one moment
every heart holds a separate world
.
powder burns
the star pole turns
and winds urge loose the staples
we have buried all the alms
and urns beneath the rouge
red haze of maples
Starry aged your hiss of cause
spreads in its river red
I'd fallen through the "I" of eyes
to wander worlds within your head
prose patent scenes upon a bed
dead worlds where the dust star
fled
Kisses tarry balm of leave
the rain is jumping from the eaves
the print of haste upon your sleeve
In the summer of an evening
where the days seem longer bright,
and the evening cannot cool the heat of day;
the silky shadows dance among us
in the playground of the night,
through the twilight haze they seem to jump, and sway.
In the autumn of an evening
when the dusk is but a dot,
yet still the day is eaten by it's appetite;
half the shadows are running from
what the other one's just sought,
as night causes the shadows to vanish from our sight.
beauty can’t be bound in any cage,
it lies at each and every stage,
in the eyes of the beholder
this shouldn’t one at all amaze.
few men are more beautiful,
than women of their own age,
women though always remain
longer, much longer, on life’s stage,
love flows from ones’ heart,
sex apart
the beauty is
of divine
a gift,
a lovely part
I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills...
Well, not really, I just adore
that first line of Isak's book.
I wanted a love like the one she
had. I could taste it. Smell it, like fresh
soap and old leather.
I wanted music in the tall grass, bending
to my wishes.
I wanted to dance with your hands on my
hips, close enough to see stars migrating
from each passing breeze.
I admired the respect of silence
and a smile
that could kill me.
I imagined memories to put into cages while lions
For several weeks a solitary leaf swings atop a tall maple,
held there only by unwavering resolve.
The rest have long ago become the crackling carpet beneath my feet.
But this sole survivor scorns such destiny.
Buffeted by bracing breeze this brown and brittle
vestige of the summer rejects surrender still.
IN CASE OF EMERGENCY BREAK GLASS
Put the little red hatchet
back on the wall.
there is no sense of urgency
at all.
no emergency.
so
please don’t break the glass.
Open the windows
and close the front door.
No one is coming in
I just washed the floor.
.
But some day
If you ever see my face
down on the ground
lips cold and blue
ass in the air
eyes fixed in a glossy stare…
break the glass.
and change my underwear
with special thanks to Judyanne and weirdelf:
daylight swept away
by encroaching night
waning
memory of purest
delight
water lilies
folding
closing
sun-sensitive petals
as birdsong ceases
and I too
fade
from your sight
until all is gone
and I am
naught
in your mind
but
a time aged photograph
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