The stream (all workshops)
Along a road I often follow
just about one month ago
a field was plowed which once was fallow
and seed beds were planted in a row.
Now, I thought it kind of queer
for planting season was far past
to see seed set this time of year
what type crop could grow so fast?
A few weeks passed with scattered rain
then green poked out of every mound
which got me wondering again
what was sprouting from this ground?
SEASONS : WINTER
sunlight colors fade to dull
passing through a prism darkly
on my window sill
then shatter into pale
like ghosts dancing on the wall
faces hidden in black lace veils
the day lingers gray and cold
and the sky strikes electric
on the wings of a Winter storm.
the world stands to a still
in Nature's mourning.
I long for a Summer's light to soothe
my broken body and battered soul
but my heart has grown into a Winter'a day
no Summer sun can warm.
Spring cometh too soon
As maidens and lads
Cast their warm love to each other,
As a flat pebble skims the waters,
When thrown with utmost grace.
I speaketh in kindly light
For those that have shed
Many a ground out teeth
Where even bread
Becomes too hard
To eat
Giveth to me
a drop of warm
Sweetened milk,
That floweth
The land of abundance
And
I’ll sup with you
To traverse with the joy
And
Beautiful love you portray
On this ordained summers eve.
You perch upon your godforsacken summit
and watch as they teeter on theirs
extend solace, draw them to your boundary
They look back from theirs
near enough to speak;
self - sufficiency holds them where they are
Swim to shore and return to normality.
connect to the world
be one with reality.
I have lived long
In the darkness
Of my woods
Without
the light of day
Looking up
at the canopy
While its ebony color
Leaving no room for a star
To shine the way
A life lived
In unawareness
Yet knowing
That somewhere life
Was not held at bay
In the past
There had been
A moment ever so fleeting
Which had awakened
The springs of May
My heart was dead
Not expecting more
Then what I could see
Just ahead
A grave where I would lay
(read top to bottom then bottom to top)
This is their world.
Quiet, peace, nature.
My life is a placid lake,
smooth as glass.
No metal blemishes or concrete pores.
Soon it will be different.
What is green?
Smog is a natural feature in our chemical makeup.
We should be worried if we weren’t in pain.
Covered in synthetic scars and acrylic burns.
This is our world.
Of Rigidity
We all have two principles
To follow in life
One is duality
The second is being double.
In order to save a situation
All human beings,
Politicians and soldiers included,
Have to adapt such a stance
In order to exist
Except save in one situation
A Marshal of the Field had to say this
‘’The only times ones rigidity plays
And pays
Is when you both are about to sleep
That’s it take it or leave it.''
Perforate your perversions
you hiss in a throaty whisper
this dry weather has made
you the concubine of chance
and with a pinky finger waving
you hand me your empty
glass
"summer is rotten" you say
staring with your bedroom
eyes filled with glacial pool
blue your glorious hair trickles
down your chest
a nibble of ear shows
the mascara heavy and dark
like a storm cloud above the
moon thin atmosphere of
that heart shaped face
Hi ya'll. While I'm taking a break I thought I'd give everybody some thing to play with. I'll start the poem. Only 2 rules :1. post only one stanza 2. stanza doesn't need to rhyme but it must have rhythm. So have fun and here goes..............
The stench and ugliness of war
has fertilized too many fields.
Regardless what the fight was for
were lost souls worth the meager yields?..................................................(bet ya'll were expecting a nature poem lol)
Emaciated bodies
Skin hanging on bones
Pity for being poor
Enzymes short of nutrients
Through years of starvation
Turned to feed on flesh
Skeletons roam the earth
This earth my brother
Scourged by heat
And lack of rains
Paradise turned to hell
Moulds of graves stretched
Beyond the horizon
Like beds of nursery
Depict a harvest
Of death by famine
Chattering drums beat
To rescue the dead
Late show of compassion
Mocks those who fed well
Where were their hearts
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