The stream (all workshops)
Inspired by SCRIBBLER! just post 1 stanza at a time to continue the poem. Let's see where this goes.
Groping in the darkness...
Where is it? WHERE IS IT!?!
Looking for the cold release of steel.
Frantic in the search for death.
Pythagoras was a music critic
all things in relationship,
harmony and proportion is beauty
the universe is ordered,
sequenced and nuanced
all planets are aligned with clouds
of free thought,
in its center, we are lovers
making love
ascending
and descending, blending ripe
juices of conquest
I am Frida wild on your fingertips
sometimes the best poems are a
canvas
created from nothing,
sometimes we have
nothing to say, sometimes we break
down, lacking even the scorch of air
The leaves about are mostly green
but many have become bright red
as crimson as bold roses seen
in midst of any flower bed.
After the thunder, all is still,
nary any type of wild birds sing.
The slightest whispers now sound shrill
and bitter haze makes tired eyes sting.
The passing tempest left trees shattered
on both sides of this rutted road
where once horse drawn hearses clattered
while transporting their dismal load.
I remember the first time
My parents took me to school
I wore an oversized white shirt
Tucked into a large brown khaki shorts
With braces hanging on my shoulders
I stood in the middle of the class
With a black slate and chalk in hand
Like a fish out of water, quivering
The sight of the teacher with a cane
Made me afraid and I cried
Booze Hound entry three
Noticed Lou watching me
Typing upon her iPad
Furiously recording
my mishaps and my triumphs
God that bitch is scary
Tried to lose her
Running down side streets
Dodging into pubs
Breathless and about to pass out
drenched in alcohol laced sweat
Hiding in doorways
But she still observes
I fall over and play dead
On a pillow made of my own vomit,
she still pursues, and posts my news
Booze Hound and his daily abuse.
HEROES
I speak my passion in open words
my soul knows no other way
that is my fashion
my DNA
my gypsy
my Latin fire
seething in nordic cold
the spirit that defines
me
I am of the species human
survivor of my humanity
different and the same
as all those of my kind
I am a warrior
pushing through time
a hero like all others
for having survived
in a war
we are bound to lose
Every song I hear
Is related to you
you are the music
That is constantly
Playing in my head
Can you hear it too
Life has been
like a beautiful Love song
Since I heard the sweet tones
Which flowed from your lips
Making me feel alive once again
My heart now dances
Where before you came
It had forgotten the steps
With you I will stay
Until the end of my days
Every song I hear
Is related to you
you are the music
That is constantly
Playing in my head
Smiles
She looks at me from a distance
Gives searching glances
As she blushes she smiles
I smile too,
No, not at her
But within
Is her smile really for me?
I await a moment
To feel the vibration
Of the nerves
All over my surface
Each like a real erection
I feel the twitch,
I assure myself to smile
As the power I pitch
Whenever next
She peeks.
Oh! I wonder whether she’ll smile
As she once did.
why blow a smoke ring
if we can not shed logic
in quest of abstract
I'm tired but my day won't end,
too much that isn't done.
I started this day yesterday,
laying down
but sleep won't come.
So many things are unattended
but I cannot even move,
the demands won't stop
on the bed I've dropped
maybe my mind will follow soon.
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