The stream (all workshops)
Fast past, dancing
thru pools of shadow
dawn is coming on strong
people on the street escaping
to the places where
they feel that they belong
with just the time they need
til night comes back around
waiting on thier dark refuge
walking home alone
watching the sun pass
thru the sky
as another day whispers
a sad, sad song!
Fast pass, dancing
thru pools of shadow
dawn is coming on strong
people on the street escaping
to the places where
fhey feel that they belong
with just the time they need
til night comes back around
waiting on their dark refuge
walking home alone
watching the sun pass
thru the sky
as another day ends
whispers a sad, sad song!
I'm building a castle of thoughts
That will survive the taste of time
This is intellectual task of the mind
That demands internal decorum
Poet's mind is an ocean of wisdom
Whenever he decides to dive into
He finds his finest artistic jackets
And sweetly swims in poetic pool
Poetically, a poet is a wordsmith
He hides under literary garments
His choice of words is his tool
And cannot be clandestinely taken
I was dressed in school colours, bottle green
On my first encounter with Sister Pauline.
The habit she wore and her stare intensive,
In making me silent, I grew defensive.
The courage I had, was pulled straight from my soul,
with Sister Pauline demanding control.
In her weird sayings, she was purposely hard,
And the words that she spoke, I’d disregard.
I made a garland for my love
from flowers that she could wear.
A rosy ray of sunshine gold
to crown her lovely hair.
The band was made from marigolds;
the odour was so sweet.
With fragrance of a lemon tree,
was good enough to eat.
An ankle bracelet next I wove
to grace her tiny feet.
It sparkled on a moonlit night
and suited her a treat.
An icon screen I built for her,
to kneel before and pray,
adorned with sacred marigolds,
with saints all in array.
My mind wanders off again
The blurred lines of
reality and fantasy
Imagination
Stark reality
Flying high like a kite
though I hold on
with all my might
For the wind, it blows too strong
Little voice is the loudest of all
Wearing her cloak
Of invisibility
She wants to be lost in the crowd
While my true self
hovers like a cloud
Waiting for the rain
for the clearing to begin.
Labels and symbols are my name.
In times where distraction is their fame.
Fear and despair become the same
When they join this deceitful game.
Hope and happiness are what's lost
In this game of detrimental cost.
Courage and patience we must feed
To fight and counteract such greed.
Knowledge and history they do fear,
When they hear revolution coming near.
What If I could...
be rain to refresh you
with a small drop of hope
to wash away the sadness of say
be a rainbow after
the April shower to create
a colorful scenery in your paint
to bring a shining light into
your life with an ebullient smile
entertain you with a melody song
to cheer you on the dancing toes
bring you a magic wand
to grant what your heart
is wishing for
ease away the sorrowful day
to embrace you in a delightful way
To set you free from suffering
with a burden of pain
Eda, your beauty is striking,
With your hair flowing long,
Your brown eyes shining bright,
And your smile, a perfect song.
Many envy your grace,
But they don't know you,
They can't see beyond your face,
Or the heart that beats true.
You're not just a pretty face,
You're intelligent, athletic, and kind,
A true friend who stands with grace,
With a spirit that's always aligned.
What about the slow passing of time
The slow but sure decay of the days
When will all of this end
And what will be left in its wake?
All day I have waited for the evening
Waited for this cool breeze that soothes my soul
And reminds me that all of this
Has been worth it in the end
I have waited for the last song of the bluebird
A great reminder that I am still here
Still alive
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