The stream (all workshops)
Went off for hair raising shindig
donning noggin of villager in Nigg
(historic county of Ross-shire,
historic region of Ross
and Cromarty, northeast
coast of Scotland).
Somehow postiche crossed the big pond
once belonged to magician,
who could create static electricity waving wand
across artificial tresses colored blond,
which wizard in disguise did abscond
with priceless peruke
(archaic word for periwig)
cuz said luxurious locks
once belonged to Dolly Parton.
So profoundly weary am I, daily defiled,
with the sludge and garbage dumped
into my lakes, rivers and oceans, and
beaches, with broken glass in the sand.
You start careless fires in my woods,
after camping under many a protective tree.
Again, you do not pick up your trash,
plainly you have no respect or love for me!
Fires, oh the raging fires out of control.
Started by a cigarette dropped in dry grasses,
or the campfire hastily put out after use
under surface waits for a gulp of air and gasses.
I try to look into my chest
And all I see is night,
A lack of what I think is best,
And void of all that's right.
I'm seeking a spark,
I'm seeking a heart,
And yet I have no sight.
You try to look into my chest
And there you see a light,
A presence of the good that's best,
A fire that's warm and bright.
You're seeing a spark,
You're seeing a heart,
And telling me your sight.
Children gleefully
walk to school,
with yellow umbrellas
and raincoats too.
Skipping round corners
of cobblestone paths,
Miss James calls out!
To welcome her class
They've come here to learn
a thing or two
but life has lessons,
to teach them too
as shame is divied,
to the innocent few
I'd run home crying
from my first day at school
In a very close moment,
I touched the striations near her waist
for the first time and she began to cry.
The marks, from the birth of her son.
She’d given him up before we met.
She had been in some trouble,
and made difficult decisions
that were still exacting a price
she couldn’t stop paying for.
To her, the lines were resentful,
and would never let her forget
the only physical reminder she had left.
Looking at the starry sky
it exudes with the twinkling
of the sparkling stage
embrace me with
dazzling smile
on the dark night
it illuminates
with the display of
a beacon light
like a precious diamond
bring across far
from the high soar
painting horizon
unfold its shimmering
grace of showcase
through the universal
presence as it portrays
with aglow exquisite
as it reminds me
that the shining
star is born
Blood Detonated out from
my cheeks
in an splatter to the chipped
creamed wall.
The backhand print mark stung
my jaw.
It made my legs weaken fall.
Knocking the
Dial a phone pinging, spinning
to the floor.
The snaked rubber phone wire
fastened around
my neck. A necklace of death
.I'm gasping
for air.
Its demonic shadow grows
over me. It
looks with Sunken dead
eyes at my new
The sun, appears huge, sets on the flat African horizon,
Painting the sky with fiery hues, a mixture of burning passion.
I feel a surge of emotion, comes from nature, mother nature.
As I watch the light turn to dark, goodbye my love, I shall be waiting for you,
I am the unwavering faith, everpresent universe.
Why is a tomato both a vegetable and fruit
Why does a tree grow upward from a root
Why does 2+2 always equal 4
Why is the ceiling above the floor
Why does the day turn into night
Why does darkness vanish into light
Why do shadows leave such doubt
Why does the thunder always shout
Why say a star is born
Why is there a crack of dawn
Why do birds sing so sharp
Why does wind blow through a harp
Oh for these stars, such grace,
A pleasure to look at and to embrace.
Shining beacons of unconditional love,
Guiding in emulation of those above.
Priceless blossoms, precious ones,
My awesome princess and the handsome sons.
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