The stream (all workshops)
The pillow fluff clouds
Gambol across an Azure sky
I labor under the sun
It brings relief and new life
To these winter weary bones
Mating calls fill the air
Waiting for the warm spring
Breeze, that will carry them to
Their intended
Deluges of rain
Scrub the planet
In anticipation of
Flora and Fauna’s arrival
I pause to take it all in
With a deep sigh
A smile
And an old tune hummed
I return to work the earth
From whence I come
Show me the way
back to your heart
Tell me how
to make love last
Give me a hint
of how I should start
So you’ll understand
what I want to share
Let me be
the light in your life
Show me the switch
that turns on your heart
Point out to me
which is the way
Please, take my hand
and lead me there
Let my broken heart
find love's path back.
In the dying light of your voice,
the sky wings away
silhouettes my bones;
I suck at marrow
of small gods
flesh the north wind, so pure,
inside my mouth:
the sun picks at my eyes,
gently
You are happy
I am happy
And
if you are a part of
Neopoets and my family
You will be happy...
Come join me
in the oblivion of time
I reside at the edge of eternity,
Where there is pure happiness,
As my only company
I reside in the hearts of mankind
Who are as happy?
As you are and are
also so kind.
Everything in life is relative
Happiness too
What of a rose can you think?
If it had no thorns,
The screen's fading glow
is like memories dissipating
as I rise and finally go
to my warm bed awaiting
Rhyku- a new,I think, form similar to Haiku in which brevity in form is used but in which at Least 2 lines contain rhyme.Does not matter which 2. Limitation in number of lines is 3 minimum and 4 maximum and length of each line to not exceed 7 words. Give it a try and see if you like it lol...............stan
Raindrops fall.
I stretch my arm out,
feel them on my palm
now wet with rain,
the familiar coldness,
your thoughts
that run across my mind.
The raindrops turn warm
and I wipe my cheeks.
The spring sun
reincarnates the scent
of autumn
Way in the distance
a white seagull
passed a dark wood
or
dark silhouette against the sky
against the mountain
white bird
Shrubs on the hidden path
throw pollen
on the marriage
(SH! I saw it)
Dogs dropping
wrapped in a dead leaf
spring roll
dew falls down the leaf
all the world
is second hand
Unexpectedly
the fig leaves
fell off
Alone
even the paper flowers
give company
or
Bats sing better harmonies, outside my window
Mouths slick with the pulp and juice of our orange tree,
they screech to each other in E minor,
D flat and A sharp, calling
‘the fruit is here!’
My mouth is always dry,
exhausted of trying to speak of things post-lingual:
these emotions, something other than elated, destitute or sad.
Doing it better,
the bats still manage to sing.
Ply me with grass fingers
you wave through the old growth
and the fresh barometric stubble
shinning with eyes pulled
deep from sounding action
coloured by storms and fires
lit by sunsets harsh and
tender attraction
Nickle and dime salutation
and your trick as you turn that
worn lucky peice through your
fingers and click it on your
grandmothers ring
walking in your gait across
cracked greyling sidewalks
that have seen steel rimmed
democrats and winged Detroit
steel
It’s my job to whisper…
They whisper on the wind in the
minds of the sane taking up their
station for profit or for gain.
Mesh covered windows are cracked
open during the night allowing only
the breeze inside or within sight.
Treachery they guard against in case
their secrets out the punishment for
informants they are never left to doubt.
We are just the senders and not to
know the reasons why we all get sharp
reminders and some they even die.
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