The stream (all workshops)
Through over a year of painstaking work
Determination take the wheel
Songs spring forth and bristle
With energy alive and real
Collaborate with others
In person or remote
Let’s get right down to mixing tracks
In case we missed a note
Many miles on the tires
Hours on the road
But when we get that final mix
My senses will explode
A symphony of color
Emotions flood my being
To hear the culmination of
These visions I was seeing
A new hole appeared in my life today.
I said goodbye to my companion, Shadow.
This hole is where I played with her.
This hole is where I cared for her.
Now this hole is just an empty aching void.
I know, with time, the edges will creep
Slowly towards the center,
As the rest of my life slowly oozes in.
The ache will dull and fond memories return.
But for now, all I am is emptiness and pain.
Thou shall be more amazed
as you read me more again
I am that light
that candle which
is lit
not by matches
but by flames of those
who ignite
reading my
in-core delight
poetry call it you might
twill be an universal delight
Poetry is not alone
my birth right
when I am in sight
you read me well
but when the lights gone
you will say
O what the hell
poetry 'twas
O poet
anyone can tell
ere one rings
an alarm bell
poets alone can tell
We often wonder what life is all about
Thinking, seeking, full of doubt
Do we seek our goals and desires
Or try to achieve what God inspires
Acting with selfish madness
We often end in virtual sadness
Always reaping pleasures with great skill
Neglecting what is in God’s will
Filling days with serious prayer
Will fill our lives with love and care
We no longer wonder what life is about
When we follow God’s planned route
I’ll sing for the stars, that change colors each term.
Can’t stop. Express. But what?
Sing for me, and the littles.
People always change.
Sing with me, see the world through my eyes.
I’ll be another brick in the wall.
Dream.
Till the blue skys are blue.
In the darkness of the night,
I wander through the misty light,
A soul lost in the abyss,
Haunted by a forgotten kiss.
The shadows dance and sway,
As I wander through the fray,
A heart that beats with fear,
As I feel the presence near.
The raven calls out my name,
As I walk through the endless shame,
A heart that's broken and torn,
As I feel the chill of the storm.
Born in the dead of night, beneath the shadows of a cold, wolf moon. Whelping, yelping; his cry was like no other. Translucent eyes engraved on snow-white skin. The last born of his kind, a curse that would eventually bind, his father held him high, upwards beneath the star-laden sky, while creatures stirred in immeasurable sleep. His mother cried.
She is my pretty passion flower,
my rare, romantic rose.
So, I’ll not pluck her thoughtlessly
from the garden where she grows.
Instead, I’ll simply idolise,
appreciate and praise,
sit still and simply study her
on those still September days.
She is my pretty passion flower,
my lotus in the mire.
She will not take offence at me
If I sometimes seem to tire.
I know that she won’t hold a grudge,
fall out with me or weep.
She’ll go on being beautiful
while her slave is sound asleep.
Why can’t I hear
what you’re saying,
have my ears grown old and tired?
do I look upon you
as encumberment,
just another to satisfy
or do I converse with a purpose
as we did, when you were a child?
do I ponder upon
the things you might need
listening when you cry?
words become our enemies
they cut blatantly
time after time
I don't want to express my true feelings!
lost to my foolish pride
Heavy memories
Elephants meandering
Through a grass less plain
Footprints fossilized
Impressions in mud and clay
Artifacts of pain
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