The stream (all workshops)
You make me cry
But that’s not unusual
I’ll survive
It’s fine.
You make me mad
That’s common too
I’ll survive
It’s fine.
You make me anxious
An everyday occurrence
I’ll survive
It’s fine.
You make me fearful
You make me jealous
You make me hate myself
I’ll survive
It’s fine.
I can deal with all that
At the end of the day
Cause all I want you to do
Is stay.
4 a.m.
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson
If you’re up like I am at 4 a.m.
I wonder if you are
Rocking a newborn baby boy
Sitting vigil at a bedside
A blue-collar worker
A CEO whose car arrived for your flight
Young and free ravers
Stressing that rent is near due
Lovers
Lonely
Starting a 6 mile run
Or sick and suffering too
To those awake at this hour,
I hope rest will find you soon.
Written March 13, 2024
© 2024 Kelly Ann Wilson
Rich men poor men look at your lives
I can tell you it’s no surprise
That where you’ve gone and where you’ve been
Is not in the middle of the lion’s den
For you have set yourselves apart
Into the midst of the lion’s heart
Where there is gold that’s much more pure
Than any rich man can secure
It's quiet, but my thoughts are alive
It's dark, but there are fireworks in my mind
It's still, but my soul rocks
It's calm, but the silence stops
It's peaceful, but something is abound
It's serene, but my ear hears a sound
A sound of someone I know
A sound of somewhere i've been
The smell of fresh air
The leaves in the wind
To a setting sun
Reminding me of your glow
From a coastal town
Forgotten long ago
The peace flows through me
And my body drifts to sleep
I went down south up to North Caroline,
Curving through straight lines dotted on I-95,
Swerving between feeling ok and losing my mind,
Just trying to leave my tattered troubles behind,
And far away.
I packed a light bag with a heavy mind,
Spurning thoughts churned up from deep inside,
I flew in my car on the ground just killing time,
Just trying to get away from everything close behind,
For maybe a day.
Trying to think what to say
only this ringing in my ears.
Not sure I understand today —
certainly can’t see future years.
What I say may not be
exactly what you hear
if filtered through your history,
past heartbreak, joy or fear.
The past is a kaleidoscope
as memories dim and drift,
perspectives and priorities
diversify and shift.
to repost poem
(I chanced to locate
amidst plethora of poems on hard drive
of Macbook Pro)
written more'n a half decade ago
before yours truly
blissfully oblivious to crypto-
currency shenanigans linked into
fiendish scammers after which
I (especially me button nose) didst glow
(giving Rudolph the red nosed reindeer
a run for his money)
whence rage,
on par with wrath of Khan,
whereby mine money
witnessed lightspeed outflow.
Far above the city lights
The campfire fades away,
Midnight lends its darkness
The stars come out to play.
Look into the night time skies
Constellations span the scene,
There is Orion and the dippers
In early morning, so serene.
The constellations, not all seen
What else might catch our eye?
The grace of a passing comet
Falling stars might just pass by.
It might be the Sisters, Gemini
Appearing together two by two,
In a sky a million light years past
The Milky Way comes into view.
"Can we dance on the moon?", she asks.
"We might even be graceful there, low gravity and all,
but the scientists don't recommend it", I reply."
"Well, if we hold on to each other at least
we'll be together if we jump too high
and float away.", her playful remark.
"Well, scientists be damned! I can't think of anyone else
I'd like to be with out there among the stars.", I assure her.
Hercules wouldn't dare climb it...
My great mountain of things unsaid
Mount Silence! It stands staunch and sturborn..
Looming over me, like a debt to be paid
"Don't look at me like that", I said...
As I reminded the Mountain of that vow we made.
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