The stream (all workshops)
If these stupid rhymes keep calling me
I’ll never find my bed
But how could I be sleeping
With her stuck up in my head
I’d wait for her for hours
And watch her break my all
I look back and I know it’s true
I never meant to fall
My dreams are running rampant
And my heart is in my throat
Somehow she doesn’t see it
Even with the words I wrote
I sneak ‘round library corners
And just to hold her hand
I’d pick my garden flowers
And I’d tear apart the band
Scottie, Beam me up
I move between
the speed of life
and the point of freeze
pulled to the ground
bound by the gravity
of my situation.
There are times
when I stumble
and begin to fold
just before
I hit the floor
like a puppet
without a string
or a bird
with broken wing.
I’ve had enough
of this strange place.
There must be
a better star for me
In outer space.
Scottie, beam me up.
regaling in a sunshower
wetness
dripping
from petals flush
a small blush
she,
once of dreams only,
gushes
love's mystique
au natural
When I saw you on the street
You were wiggling oh so sweet,
Then I tripped over my own feet.
I said "Hello, sidewalk
Let’s have a talk.”
With sweater tight as pantyhose
Showing off your pair of those
Dang it! Now I’ve blooded my nose.
I said "Hello, brick wall,
Will that be all?"
You sashayed into the room
And I promptly tripped over a broom;
The sound was like a sonic boom!
I said "Hello there floor,
Let's chat some more."
OIL PAINTING
Oozing through the tube the gaudy paint
splotches, the canvas
widening, floating across the sheet of white
it stops, as the brush sweeps its gooey mass
in a big circular form,
the thickness varying the depth of colour,
it meets another splotch of contrasting colour,
they meld, combine and race round
making a scratching sound
that has a sense of urgency and splash,
to produce another amalgamate of pigment,
feathered in to the structure of the cloth.
flirting playfully
droplets of dewy diamonds
charm her rosy blush
thanks to comments by Judyanne and Ann i wrecked up my brains to come up with this revision and got rid of the original title
Surreal and vast, the vision here before me
A landscape harbouring a double will
that seeks a freedom mixing sadness, glee
portrayed and painted with artistic skill
Across abundant, waving ears of green
(impressing, somehow, somewhat too much glow
as if to draw attention from the scene
to hide where, under arbours, secrets grow)
as daisies lazily soak up the sun
and marigolds reflect its amber light
the shadows are obscure and gloomy, dun
the flowers far too incandescent, white
I've been here for years
roaming the earth-my land,
Sowing the seeds of fears
with my own cruel hand.
I've committed the sin,
mimicked the demon's deeds,
I stole and killed my kin
Now I'm reaping the weeds.
rain rich
burial
garment fresh
the control was the test
ring finger hand
riding shoulder shotgun
capillary dreams
await
shunting the show
and the world
exhales in its draw
like your blurry funny
way
how you love
through
Seems I heard or read that Haiku are usually untitled........
#1
As sweat drips from brow
even beneath a shade tree
comes dreams of winter
#2
The new mown hay field
wild flowers and grass like thatch
where now butterfly?
#3
Let the storm winds howl
let them toss the fields and trees
tempests seldom last
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