The stream (all workshops)
the crow fills the air with dark-winged presence
a black iron fence stands guard
doors and windows open,
life passes through.
we are strangers here
with moments of glory
on battlefields of hope
who can speak of victory
and the injury of loss?
but if the sun rises
turns leaves to gold
on a mid-summer's day,
all there is
will take a bow
and the stage will be lit
from the inside out.
.
bright downy feathers
aerodynamic form
freshly painted beak
written: 25/02/2008
when you stare at a dim star
it vanishes
then you see it
when you look away
it was an analogy waiting to happen
i left it too long
autumn or sunlight or
long shadows, does that help?
how about hawks, do you know now?
what i want to tell you
can only be said by
avoiding the subject
With clogged lungs, I awake
I cough up all this phlegm
Even though my airways are baked
I torture them again
I've tried to quit, but it seems
That my willpower is just moot
More smoke filled with tar and nicotine
I can't give these cigs the boot
I can't play, and I can't run
and no matter what the task
My body says, "Hey I'm done"
"Where's the oxygen-mask?"
Ten bob hooker,
Street corners she uses
for easy cash,
hotel rooms are costly
always brash.
Scuffed boots she’s now
worn a while,
denim skirt short, frayed,
out of style.
Friendly pink or lace
that’s all gone,
had to grow up early
to face a horrid dawn.
Father was a good man
maybe to damn kind,
mother was weak
and always love blind.
forgot about you old freind
the sunshine streaming bright as then
the lithe and limber youthful you
now tall and limping thoughtful view
we celebrate our birthday way
the sunny sun another day
out mute raindays and puddle view
the sorrows joys and things we do
SEASONS I
The branches on the old birch trees
Began to feel the weight of ice and snow
First a brief crackling to show their resistance
The weaker ones fell in the hush of the ground below
All that was green and alive died to winter
Lingering ghosts frozen still
until the first breath of Spring
There is no resurrection without a death
No continuation without a Spring
Each of us dies to our season
And we let go of one dreaming
To wake and dream another
Submitted by Geremia on Mon, 2011-07-11 02:49
there's a bird on the wire
eyeing his world from my vantage point
worlds collide
we see each other through the window of
perception
and reality takes a bow
there is grace in this moment
I pedal uphill and down hill with ecstasy,
crossing thresholds with robin's wings
there is a blade of grass that sings.
I listen to my listening.
Worthless Lethargy
Zilch to nothingness
We hang fire
Put off the flame
Dally handed on as delay
This block to progress
Keeping me deferring
Till the morrow
Evening exploits of today
When we holdup
Or drag our feet
Then postpone
Our good intentions
The world suffers
I need determination
For nothing is so hard
Lest my aspiration
Be for naught
I took my first vacation to the beach with the family after me and my hubby separated in 2009. He thought it a great idea to take us on vacation after years of pleading to do something as a family. So he arranges the finances so it would be possible to go and have a really good time taking in the sights during the day and walking the beach in the afternoon.
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