The stream (all workshops)
THE BITER BLENDED SWEET
The biter is her shell
The poison.
The anger
Mixed by secrets
Sometime she will tell
Her life
The hurt
The pain
So many questions
Of love
Unexplained
This was the bitter
In her life
This scar
Will not heal
To the day she dies
Never a life
Of trust
She always hides
Protected
Defending
The sweetness in her mind
TO BE A MOUNTAIN
To be a mountain!
Is too some, a life personified
Embodying the characteristic, of a mountain
Their volume of insecurity is larger than life
They need the allusion of strength
For solitude in their pride
To be a river!
Is freedom too some
Flowing without boundaries
The truth will not confine them
To face the lies, that they have become
In the solitude of blindness, you have found resolve. Choosing to see life in grays and black!
Your resolution a legacy in monochrome
Simply your eyes only see pain in the archives of your heart. However, before this pain there was bliss, the sublime kaleidoscope of trust and love
In this solitude of blindness what will your truth become!
I like you girl;
better'n chicken,
better'n liking myself I reckon
more than any other thing alive;
more than life passing,
or the promise of time
let winds fingers ramble through the tangle
my hair wild
and the leaves whispering in their urgent hiss
I can feel the gravity in my legs the
uneven brickwork and sunbleached blacktop
I push myself forward
for going back is like stepping
into the cool shadowdream
where I'm neither awake
nor concious
I remember the brown tea waters
of the creek always alive
always moving under the sweet
bridge the shaded tree limbed
sanctuary of respite
i.
we had a common dream once
to know the sky and sea as well as
the black willow's reflection inside a mirrored lake,
but rose petals and fireballs fell and
disturbed our vision
The cost of existing is high
Prompting me to cry
No matter how hard I try
I can’t discern, my way in life
Spiraling prices place me in a fix
Per buyers spending picks
Low wages mainly a trick
To craft the minority rich
Thus creating majority poor
Per capita distinction core
Hanging on tattered zinc, flaccid in the wind
The roof of a dilapidated school structure bore
The electoral sign, green codes upon white
Danced seemingly beckoning on the voters
To come and cast, to choose a new a leader
The aluminum plate tied with a twine
Like the hangman’s noose, it droops
As if rocking reflectively on the past
To mock the contestants on display
Some who want to win at all cost
With those big brown eyes
and strawberry fired hair
sweet innocence as on
a summer's day fair
You visit grandma and grandpa
with lee luke and charlotte
brothers and sister you play
have such a wonderful day
You all go play hide and go seek
all turns dark all so bleak
in a blink of an eye
you are taken away
we cannot sleep
we only weep
In death I’ve found love,
Longing,
Desire,
But much more thought of you;
To make it seem right,
With a heart full of anger,
Yet have not found what to do.
Not in my walking. Not in my waking,
It’s fog,
And thought,
And far too many days between;
That I have will, but no feet,
Urge, but no way,
Nor hither that I have seen.
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