The stream (all workshops)
And I will die alone, in a field somewhere
Organs and bloody bones, will decompose with hair
So why should I try to love?
What would be good for me?
I could channel all my rage, into a pit of despair
And I will drag on, till my toes catch fire
And I won’t be tempted by such evils as desire
So come, take me home, but I don’t know where
Just leave me here, and I will learn
That love can’t be made, it must be earned
And most things are not meant to be
But some things are, you must believe
Hear me, hear me, cry, I swear to god I can see
All of the things that I have done wrong
I wish I could repent and that you could fix me
I would sing such glory repeated in songs
The things I know I can never forget
The heart I held but could never get
The strings of hearts and the marionettes that pull
The fire that claimed my beating heart
The strangers that walked me home from jail
I am the broken man who stands lighting his torch
My day was dead and my love was gone
There was no one around and no one to feel
All the things that I felt all the misgivings real
I was broken last night in the eyes of temptation
The light was burnt out and I feel lamentation
I don’t know why I did what I did
But it’s been done, so let me live
The storm sent tiny missles to destroy my mood
Even though they struck my fortress with great accuracy
My roof protected me from the explosions of iciness
The armour of my sweater held
The wind howled like a thousand adversaries
I covered my ears with a helmet of wool
Peering over the window-sill
I saw the miniscule flares of bombs in the street-lights
Fortified by hot-chocolate
I gathered my courage and weapons
I was about to jump out of the trenches
When I heard the Man say
Write it down
Recite it in verse
Bind it to your heart
All that is gold doesn't glitter
not all fools are quitters
a loser doesn't know from the start.
Those who wander are by no means lost
Lovers don't always depart.
New shoots won't allow the old to wither
Dying roots weren't blighted from the start
There's a gremlin whose crying
for the love that lays dying -
He now regrets playing his part.
The storm had passed
wreaking havock
so it seemed
'til the birds roused from their nests
clouds made way for sunshine
blades of grass lushed the fields
a gentle breeze heaved a sigh of relief
so I thought.
before I realized it was my breath
hope had survived anguish.
I crossed my heart
feeling blood flow through my veins again
so it felt
watching the rapids rush through ravines
I whistled to the tunes of the river song
then paused to listen to the echoes
but there were none.
Crunch of fresh night frost
welcomes tired old feet back home,
heralding new winter.
A blank page staring
challenging me to fill it
with words of beauty
Mind searching for words
and thoughts to write in order
to form an image
Pen hand writes with care
to space and spell correctly
an eye-pleasing work
Then the moment comes
to share thoughts and words aloud
awaiting response
As We Age!
As age catches up,
I am now getting a feeling
We must write shorter poems
I won't say crisp,
Lest it once again causes,
A slip
And
In the minds of the elite
It gives them a chance
To lisp
.
from the ground
the ceiling looks so much wider
from the ground
its cracks seem much finer
the paint peels -
minute flags, off-white surrender;
the paint peals -
egg shells of heavy footed plunder...
revelation fall free
on this soul that has been bound
revelation fall free,
release this pretender from the ground
.
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.