The stream (all workshops)
The golden fork of electricity cracked the air,
the sky was carrion black. It angered with
every force every snap like a wild cat strike
Electric whip from Satan keeping all folks
Obeying. His toungue warning, playing and
teasing .The banshee screaming winds
Vibrating the crys the screaming
lost Souls no were to go. The dark pagan
trees swaying, then breaking at the knees
another worthless creation playing with
lives from above the abode of the saints
Even as old (dish) married
(spooning) curmudgeon,
who receives social security disability
linkedin with social anxiety)
chose the fork less traveled
aye pucker with sunken cheeks,
(especially without dentures)
and raspily suction toothless mouth
drawing reminiscent guffaws affecting
attempt impersonating plumber
Home of Joy
A place where it builds
with a seed of love
sprout with a full
spectacular look
of vivid colors
In a line of march parade band
With the lovely enchanting
rosebud petals bloom
Filled with hummingbird tunes play
Dancing with an ecstatic and joy
That brings peace and comfort
To see all the beauty exquisite
Continue to grow and bloom
To form a green flourish display
Furnish from its own nurturing
Through the radiant sunlight glow
Santa
Nearly
Overturned
While
Sleighing
Through
Ominous
Reckless, rolling, rumbling, roaring, ransacking
Mayhem!
The tablets teasing me to stay awake
My eyes fighting like im lifting heavy
Weights The glare on my monitor
Has hooked me in shining pure
My bed is an enemy I stay away. It's
3am soon I'll be awakened by my
Chattering feathery friends and smiled
at by the Sun....... Pls do one
Daddy’s pancakes sat plated and steaming on the dining room table
As we woke to cheery calls of “Come to breakfast!”
The very early morning darkness greeted two sleepy girls
bundled together on the backseat of our family car.
I, the youngest, wide-awake, watching,
as city streets became country roads.
Sunrise peeked o’er gently rolling fields of rural Wisconsin,
as we traversed the hard-packed dirt driveway.
TO BE
To be, become, bring into being,
Dreams and imaginations frolicking in my head,
Those visions playing in my tears and sadness,
To achieve, manufacturing mind's project
A reality, partaking in life's fruitful nurture
so u real???
Warning! The following choppy, batty,
dopey: elegy = flaky, goofy, history: iffy,
jumpy, kooky: loopy, matty, nappy, nippy,
sketchy material prone to find the reader
dazed and bewildered, yet comfortably numb.
Modern Roam Min Times – mesh
THERE IS NO RELATION WITH THE
EPIC OF GILGAMESH (abridged from
brook land) AND THIS VIGNETTE – in ma Englesh.
As I lay in my bed dreaming, my brother came to me.
We shall speak in the morning, just you wait and see.
He had long been gone, but in the dark I found a trace,
He was hiding in a looking glass, in light his shining grace.
I’m here now sister, lay safe and in your slumber, listen,
I tell my story, with all my love, as I am on a mission,
I’ve come here with a secret, that I have to share.
Let me hold your hand, and touch the silver in your hair.
Every heartbeat counts
Our love grows deeper each hour
Enduring and true
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