The stream (all workshops)
barbers
and bartenders
talk
to you
not
at you
letting you
let it
on out
sometimes
I sob
and mewl
for a tug
of an ear
or a shave
of a fool
Justification for ones life lived
apologies not forthcoming
what I am is where I've been
past lies dog my footsteps
aggression flows free
within these walls
must take heed
and find
peace
SHRIEK
Shreik! the leak in yonder pipe,
is permanently dripping,
run go fetch a bucket,
for its running rancid water,
of a funny sort of green.
with the cellar door ajar,
it will air the scene to dry,
and the straw upon the floor,
will soak excess.
a netting hung from nails,
to the pegs above the frame,
a spade can hold the middle,
for the draught.
Our juggernaut soon won the war
and did so in near record time
it was in peace the fight went on
and therein lies the crime
Far off in the shifting sands
along deserted dusty roads
barbarians still vented wrath
with improvised explosive loads
Did not most men welcome us
in ridding their country of Hussien
or did they just embrace the chance
of garnering some private gain
Do you know?
Some waste a life time
Preaching no sex
Some can't sex
Some vex ,
some let others show, their sex
Some only see others sex
like in porn
What after life
can you boast of?
Enjoy sex now
As there is no hereafter death
The priests and the good Lord knoweth too
They quietly do
Don’t you?
Can death come
Without a grave
Does love out last
Time and space
What of spirit
Can it hover
To enter inside
Another empty place
Will an emotion
Begin to fade
When not stroked
By loves embrace
Can you give
What's not wanted
In a box
Wrapped with lace
Who can say
Where the heart
Might indeed go
To find grace
In an alley past the hollow
there lies a field, and a shack
with an easement allowing traffic but one way;
Abel's existence is hard to swallow
he can't help but to look back
ever wishing that he knew what he would say.
With his hound dog at his heels
Abel's living with his ghosts
long ago, his woman left him in the night;
I know exactly how he feels
and, he's not the sort who boasts
in fact, he's usually, ordinarily polite;
The teenager in you
Is full of bubbles
And
Belief in tin soldiers,
With nonchalant glee
And
The way of expression starts with doubt,
Will a tin soldier ever love me?
Or make me believe
That all he is, a lover boy
And
For that to secure himself,
He may lie, to lie with me.
Oh young, as I was a kid,
I picked up an ink pen,
This is now replaced by men.
I am a musician and play a guitar,
A piano drums too…
I wanted to draw but couldn’t do.
I asked an old ally to see me
Long before New Year day
Excuses follow all the way
A text endorsed that eve to be
Watch through or tarry night
Sacred ground lent the excuse
Cordiality turned into abuse
Daring me to start a fight
A leopard’s spots change not, they say
Mere visit packaged to court and test
Susan and Steve squared for a contest
Till reproof put inconstancy at bay
When queried as to where I live,
I ponder not and always give
an answer I’ve prepared to say ~
that “Heaven’s not so far away.”
May God have mercy on us all,
for we’ve been haunted since The Fall,
but I am grateful every day
our Heaven’s not so far away.
My home, my life is paradise.
I live in grace and pay no price,
for with my wife as we turn grey
my Heaven’s not so far away.
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.