The stream (all workshops)
I will sing an Ave Maria,
if it ever comes again.
These shackles are jewel speckled,
donned from generation to the next.
We passed them on,
though they were painful,
under the eye of an aging world,
we guarded them with our lives
and what was left of our sanity.
Like sheep we are led to the slaughter
of reason,
and the judges;
book cases from Plato to Kant,
look down on us;
yet still we proudly walk on,
proud of our parent's yoke:
Dear England
Ho’ dear England let me rest
and my worldly travel end,
My spirit lies in your silken bed
from my taunts of life to spend,
To rest away from the throbbing guns
that count the pace of life,
Safe within thy dream like-hold
as my mother’s kiss goodnight,
Embrace me like the dampened arms
of a lover's jealous hold,
and replace that dream before the dawn
my darkened nightmare stole.
.
There was movement at the Nursing Home for word had got around
that the Neolith Olympics was today
and the medals were all ready, first prize a hundred pounds,
so all the aged had gathered to the fray.
All the tired and bloated oldies, from Homes from near and far,
had gathered at the crisis muster point.
They'd come by bus, by train and plane, and some had come by car.
They'd be stopped by neither frame nor aching joint.
Hello Lady Nevada
your return
sent cockles down my spine
my hairs stood on end
I rubbed my eyes
to reread your lovely one,
At twenty seven you could swim
along with the sun
but never naked…
barefooted maybe
and
here is this one awaiting for more
how your poetry satiates for sure
I wish to let you know
all readers
missed you so.
including the ones,
who are here no more
but hope to see your
Lovely free verse
my portrait,
as like a garland adore….
I must be brave
When tomorrow comes
For the mother of my grandmother's mother
Was in my place once
I cannot doubt...
I dare not run...
I must not cry...
When tomorrow comes
Three moons ago,
I was on the other side
I watched as
Proud blossoming buds stood in line
Their tears of joy were mingled with silent fears
"Customs do not die"
Say the ORACLES and SEERS
So...
I must not tremble when tomorrow comes
ride in the svelte lining
sacred and saved
while the mastery of day
flows in ribbons through
streamer flag top structures
and whitecap glimmer
my soul shimmers
you smile baby is captured
alive on the lcd
while remnants if ice
fall away from our glacial
fire
and winters aurora
whips constellations
of godesses awake
Before this round of Karma's wheel began.
Emotion strove to think of new ideas
and challenges she could present to man
and woman, while we learn to face our fears.
Such as the lesson of the door of death -
to teach us separation, and the plan
is, while we're at this place where we draw breath,
our memories are clouded for the span
and we forget we are eternal beings.
NOMADS
When the battles are over
and no one has won
we gather our chattles
and farther we run.
But there is no peace
where conscience abides
there is no home
where treachery resides.
And so nomads we become
wandering from sun to sun
pushing tiime beyond its limits
before we are forever done
Timeless has been your love
Sweet, tender and gentle
Have been your caresses
On my shores
The never ending soothing lapping music
That invokes the winds to dance
With my trees
In sweet salty scented embraces
Songs born of life eternal
Which you have sung
Day and night
Since the beginning of our time
You softly run your liquid fingers
Throughout my contours
Creating countless pleasure
The heavens wish to know.
RANDOMLY SEARCHING THRU MY METHODICAL RAMBLING
IN HOPES TO FIND THE CREATOR OF ALL THAT IS
I START TO NOTICE MY SURROUNDINGS
WITH A SUDDEN URGENCY
THAT HOLDS THE ABILITY
TO DRASTICALLY CONTAMINATE
THE SESS POOL OF HUMANITY
GIVING OFF THE ALL CONSUMING FEELING
OF BEING SWALLOWED
ALIVE
MY CLAUSTROPHOBIC ANXIETIES CHURNING DEEP WITHIN BEGIN ITS RACE FROM MY CORE
TRAVELING AT FULL THROTTLE
UNTIL RELEASED WITHOUT REMORSE
ONTO MY CONCIOUSNESS
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