The stream (all workshops)
Stars shine above…
Their reflections in the waves.
The rush of a warm breeze
flows across my skin.
Sandy feet and salt water hair
bask in the moonlight
What I wouldn’t give
for these tropical summer nights
to last a lifetime.
You looked at me
Your eyes not seeing
That which is
On the outside,
But cutting through,
To my inner core
And seeing the
True and real me
Your whisper,
Was not meant
To just my ear,
But traveled
And found its way,
Into my heart
Melting the ice
I built up there.
Your touch,
Though upon my skin
Sent sparks
Through out my body,
And forever etched,
Upon my brain
The sweetness that you
Gave unto me.
Your gentle kiss,
Though upon my lips,
strewn into a bajillion little pieces
Unexpected largesse
yours truly patiently waits,
a metaphor of my dire financial straits
courtesy papa's unsuspecting muse
the missus, this wordsmith notates
unwittingly linkedin to his misfortune,
a situation he hates,
especially, an unavoidable crisis,
whereby passage of time abates
negligible onus of penury.
An elderly woman I know well,
carries some burdens with contentment;
compassion and empathy, to be more specific.
She tells me she doesn't mind their weight
because they always give back to her,
but in ways that really cannot be held.
Nevertheless, she welcomes their influence.
Her constant companions; she charges no fare
for the comfortable rooms she keeps for them.
I could be my friendliest company
A lesson I will learn at least once a year
Longing for peace I can only feel alone
Failing, for I sought this peace in disorder
Waking up next to one person
And going about your days connected at the hip
Is not ideal for a poet
It becomes uninspiring
As love grows stronger when its denied
Or picked apart
But I learn again and again
That I am my friendliest company
And I wouldn’t like to spend days without him
The image I really remember
Returns every year in December
It was the year I nearly died
When all my family members cried
I had thoughts of a bright light
Even though it was clearly night
I saw my soul move from my chest
While I layed back at rest
My wife was in deep despair
Crying and showing such care
The voice I heard so clear
Reminded my why I was here
I asked if I was to stay in this place
That reflected the light upon my face
Some People
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson
Some people
Get on the next train
From 8 hours away
And take a red-eye flight
Some people
Sleep beside your bed
In an office chair
Under bright hospital lights
Some people
Text you every single day
Even when they know
You can't get back to them
Some people
Don’t care about all of the ways
Your body is failing you now
As long as you can still play mini-sticks
Even just for a moment
Jumpstarting outstanding undertaking...
bringing jouncy, spectacularly crafted,
nuanced, zesty, noteworthy, creatively
spirited enlightened written poem.
This raggedy man doth inconsolably weeps
kept rudely awake whilst disobedient sheep
incur wrath of Little Bo Peep, she lambastes
protesting courtesy rambunctiousness being
future mutton chops with "haggis and neeps"
though hungry enough to eat a horse, yours
truly - me cannot afford mouth watering heep
meager stacked coins no higher than antheaps.
Oozing smooth through velvet pores
Seeping out from cupboard doors
This modern social Anti-Christ
This 'Common Purpose' poltergeist
Created in Nazi Germany
This enemy so hard to see
Your nosey neighbour now a spy
Don't let its danger pass you by
This bankers' human rights destroyer
Appealing to public paranoia
This people's cause so self-defined
To terrorise the human mind
This peer-led form of mind control
Lays bogus claims upon your soul
And to this beast of nowadays
there was a winged horse waiting for me
along the glimmering shores of the mirage sea
there a winged horse in my mental dustbin,
a majestic creature in standing on the edge
of the mirror sea.
a cream-colored stallion with a buzzard's wing
among the mental detritus washed ashore,
all those flotsam of forgotten things.
in my many lives i was a vagabond
taken by the circular current,
tossed by the gusts of wind.
but in that particular dream there was
a great winged horse waiting for me.
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