The stream (all workshops)
The wind seems far away
when the observer declares
independence, all things
pass within circles and hands
of clay....
If you will, demonstrate your ignorance
oh, small child of remarkability: you held
an elephant's trunk once and dreamed it
your own, you swallowed a dozen flies and
ate paste to build prisoner's walls.
There is nothing to stand between your head
but yourself. Counter the terror of the madness
you name.
In her shadeless declaration, only moonlight absolves.
Spoon feeding each other
the rain
moaning with the thunder
zig-zag bodies convulsing
but you didn't like the poem
I wrote afterwards,
you said
it didn't do anything for you
and there weren't any lines
that jarred you
but hey, I could have said
sex wasn't earth-shattering
but I won't.
and all you could say is "better".
All I could think is yeah, it better
be better or this metaphor will
walk out the door.
"He loves me."
Reality Raised
Dreams are expectations thrown away with christmas paper,
expectations are hopes that we are given by the life shaper
The life shaper is never to be seen in his working gowns,
shapers get seduced by money to seduce the working clowns.
The man in the pink tee shirt talks a lot, maybe he is nervous,
a woman in a hat starts to scream, unhappy with the service.
all the fine bags, coats, can’t help themselves they’re dripping,
poor people on the march to work, puddles and potholes skipping.
It is common to hear
Amongst the people here
Such unspeakable words
‘My mother is a witch’
They go ahead to say
Things hard to believe
Accept it or not
I know what I am saying
Instances are drawn
To affirm and to confirm
The mother stands guilty
As accused by wagging tongues
Days before our second baby
My mother saw something
That was in a dream
A baby in bathing water
With its face downward
Thereafter, we had a still born
between the hate
between the love
like the dissolved
temporary hearts
melting
in the swallow
these snows
late catching
the grey ghosts
oblique pain wrapped
like a thin chilled
cheater coat
we can be together
as the day falls to night
on old sheets
as a scratched disc
crawls about
thirty three and some
revolutions
we can go around
while snowflakes scratch
the cracked walls
Throughout the arid desert lands
sandstorms howl their pent up fury
and beat against the tyrants' strongholds
with ever increasing force
Through the swirling chaotic haze
it is impossible to see
exactly what is happening
as long as whirlwinds hold sway
Soon this storm, like all others
will fade into the past
But for now we can only guess
what has been destroyed
and the land's lay
in the aftermath
Chiseled by hand, formed to be alluring
You appear to have the clarity of diamonds
yet you’re hard, cold and sharp to touch.
You’re mysterious like a mature oyster
But underneath the impermeable shell
there's no smooth pearl to treasure.
.
You bring promises of spring colors
lush and green like emeralds
except no love grows from within.
Eyes iridescent prisms
an opal rainbow of colors
blurring with every tear you fall onto me.
Felt by someone so distant
Australia to California,
Must be like silken threads
Stretched across the oceans
Like invisible ones
Carrying a deep lamentation
A love of passion in a communion,
Unknown to any
The loss as was so obvious
Perhaps to whom it mattered
There was no indication.
Take glory in the fact
That you can weave such lovely poetry
Ah!
How I wish
I could also
What were they looking for?
When they built at Babel
Wanted that which was illusive
Common aim in many languages
Turned out a confusing exploit
Thus standing in shallow places
They looked up the towers
Today is not different
Like the days of Babel
Corporate men in suits
Some sit on the podium
Boasting to have been chosen
And ordained in bonded faith
Talking of restricted liberty
Lacking the extended height
Of a free-thinking world
I dreamed of words
bound in white kerchiefs,
signs waving in the shadowed valley of death.
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