The stream (all workshops)
A light here to stay
Within my soul every day
Showing me the way
To me, success is more than a seven letter word
For finally, no more failure is heard
In the silent echoes of dawn
I feel as free as a bird
Success whispers, a journey drawn
To me, success is a painted canvas with colours unseen
Breaking the comfort of everyday routine
Becoming bold towards something new
It's growth within, more than a dream
For failure had never alone grew
There are raspberries
along the fence.
Flourishing,
juicy and plump.
I've picked several basketfuls,
rinsed them in cool, clear water
'neath the gooseneck faucet,
then tossed them into this bowl,
the color of lemonade.
We rest here, like a painting.
Raspberries poised in my sunny bowl,
and you,
feet propped up on the porch railing,
red juice dripping down our fingers.
"The haunting, hunted kind..."
~ Pilot's Dream
I dreamed I met a little boy.
A most amazing child.
He smiled at me, but didn't speak a word.
The wind was all I heard.
I followed him down a crowded alley,
filled with scowls and empty stares.
He walked among the wicked and the vile,
the endless mercantile.
Suddenly, there came
a howling, bitter rain.
The child reached out his arms
and smiled at me again.
The crowds cowered to run,
the cleansing had begun.
In the celebration of
humanity's spirit that
it instilled the strength
and inspiration from
finding the
freedom and
opportunity
In the land of America
that this great nation symbolizes
with a sense
of a gratitude
and solidarity
that it stands for
the heart of pride
and a feeling of patriotism
to call this place a home
set one with a thought
to bring in an abundant
joy to share during the
special holiday season
Of Thanksgiving
for the myriad things
Death of emotion!
To quell the winds
of wanton cries.
My retreat to darkness,
accompanies my denial.
Enfolded there,
in its blackened arms.
I’m no longer abused,
by your words or charms!
Take me now,
to that lonely place.
No longer encumbered,
by the human race.
Whose lips are replete,
with conjured notions.
which are indiscrete
without true emotion!
Gut-wrenching
Heartache
Streams of tears
and audible sobs
I can't catch my breath.
Everything is cold
Dark
Lonely
Grief tears at my heart
Shreds through my voice
Squeezes my lungs
Crushing me under its weight
Shoulder shaking cries pour from my soul
and drip onto the pages of what could have been
The following anecdote baste
upon overactive imagination of mine
in sync with being married
and monogamously living socially chaste
life as a scrupulous anchorite,
whose weather beaten corporeal flesh
plus sabotaged, riddled,
and tuckered psyche effaced
after becoming adequately stuffed,
this turkey (in the straw)
Hedonistic wealth: a pauper’s poor mental health
Hearing what you want, fallen words upon deaf ears
Exploring what you love, when ignorance is bliss
Gazing at the stars so hot, with crate of ice-cold beer
Seeing others cry, can bring a man to tears
Partaking in what’s dangerous, to disregard the fears
Living for the moment, when you crave what is to come
Enjoying what is trivial, you don’t do what should be done
Entrusting a stranger, to find out he’s a crook
Requesting back the money: the cash the said man took
That time of the year again the crisp crunchy White snow the cold death of breath
outside the cheers and high pitched laughter but when you get older it grows moulder.
you realise it's not always happiness it's about survival living day by fckn day enjoying what you can
while the children are to young to understand. They go out to play like everyday is fun and bright red roses .
while you smile for them you know tomorrow it all starts again.
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