The stream (all workshops)
Jub, Jube, Jubilee
Good old britania she ruled the waves,
as her children worked or died in rags.
Sailors brought back all types of goods,
to fill or feed good old money bags.
The soldiers or sailors of the crown,
were always shown to be loyally brave.
But one couldn’t say no to her brutality,
you served or died, as a murdering knave..
Once on board they’d loot the world,
good sense to show more than willing.
Those lions that were led by lambs,
surely earned her royal mint shilling.
Hold up!
Wait there
See the people
stop and stare
standing frozen
hand in pot
cleverly guising
his shifty plot
slowly moving
trying to leave
surely he see's it
the bread in your sleeve.
Critique you did
Insight
inspiration
desperation
perspiration
admiration
then comes
excitation
and
composition
thereafter
recitation
and
now
do read this
composition
an
exploration
and
extemporation
Why? by RW
-
Where could all these black winds take me
They catch my wings and blow
Some times the sun sends secrets sweetly
at other times the razors show
-
though I steer I never fight it
the winds know what I need for now
at times sore racing thoughts ignite it
or else the stagnant breezes flow
-
the squall directs me to an abyss
slows to let me be a feast
to carrion crows and demon’s kiss
the mind rends from the wailing beast
-
This writing is a dangerous game
a promise
made together
a vow for eternity
with the one
you call destiny
not knowing
what the years may bring
where life may lead you both
or how it will end
but his words
made you fall
to your knees
tears in your eyes
and a broken heart
he was your better half
bitter through time
leaving you bruised
and bleeding
his mistress
his last breath
your destiny
the finale
was unexpected
While Wesley went to Washington
we huddled in the corner
muddled by the former need to escape
those hollow halls of who we are
and write, right to the end, bent over blazoned quills,
infectious iridescence, over and beyond the order
of this fine corner.
mince courage
liquid sheer
here is the roundel rib
the bulb shard light
fingering the dark
jackals and jeckyl
lurching and the wall
the wall hurts
the window is full
full of tears
the fuel of fear
licking bruises
the scream
is long
as long as the
hall is lonely
and in the garage
sweet perfume of
exhaust
and purring cylinders
swirl
coma
collage
even sleep has an element of time,
for you just awake
after a short and sweet
slumber
and
then you enter
into a no -time zone
if you don't rise again...
till then sleep
and
un-sleep
as usual,
till dreams do over take,
as you enter the timelessness zone
and
about that there is
absolutely,
no mistake.
till then sleep
and
if you desire awake
when the
spirit! is ready
it will come
and
it shall you finally
on its wings take...
FREE FALL
Wingéd creatures
were we all
tumbling vertiginously
into free Fall.
Bound by sin to dust
suffering is our “must.”
Dreams of Holy Kingdom.
Sleep and fly
into oblivion.
A little branch just running free
through a lowland hardwood hollow
is all I ever thought to be
unaware of what would follow
all of it in nature's way
But then one day the beavers came
from a slightly larger creek downstream
since then things are not the same
my wild free days became a dream
fate took me, now, another way
For soon the beavers built a pond
my wandering days were over
but by suprise I soon grew fond
of watching the blue cranes fly over
on their way to who could say?
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