The stream (all workshops)
Heart bound by fear
Tongue laced to my lips.
Words are left
Unspoken.
My hand is my mouth.
Pen, my tongue.
Flowing freely
The words that are locked in my throat.
Breath hitched
And the thought
Of using my voice
My voice is the one you hear with your eyes
The one that speaks the truth.
She is uninhibited
and her eyes are open wide
She blinks with innocence
and asks the question why?
No one has seen her heart
though she wears it on her sleeve
She's a liberal lover
she's got a heart that bleeds
He is alone, no family
that is how it seems
He's just the one she's looking for
the product of her dreams
Scintillating aura
hides a darkened soul
sick and twisted reasoning
seduction is her goal
Awake
Milky white skin
Pressed against barren trees
Earth shattering copulation
Sleepless
She dances ’neath the showers
at odd nocturnal hours
among the trees and bowers
where witch and black cat cowers.
They say she has strange powers,
like wizards in their towers.
This ghost, who glares and glowers:
her gaze can fade the flowers.
She stares at milk - it sours!
Like demon, she devours,
but in the daylight hours,
when sun dries up the showers,
This goddess, she empowers!
And we are glad she’s ours!
I cannot remember when
my body knew no pain
when a walk refreshed,
and didn't drop nuclear bombs
down my spine and hips.
I cannot remember
moving without a stick
bracing an unbalanced form,
when the ache didn't prompt
every movement, every fall
I cannot remember
a time when metal shards
didn't flow through my marrow,
minutes seem like decades
as a lake of fire ignites the arch
WITH LONG UNRULY HAIR
AND A MISCHIEVOUS GRIN
JOHNNY GRABS HIS GUITAR
AND THE CONCERT BEGINS
NEVER KNOWN FOR SMARTS,
BUT MAN THE KID CAN PLAY
LIKE FIRE FROM HIS FINGERTIPS
HE BLOWS THE CROWD AWAY
NEVER KNOWN FOR NUTHIN’
BUT SLAMMIN’ THE DOOR IN YOUR FACE
AND UP ON STAGE
HE ROCKS THEM INTO SPACE
WITH A CHEAP OLD STRAT
AND A MARSHALL HALF STACK
HE MAKES ALL THE GIRLS
PALE AND FAINT
GET UP ON STAGE HE SAYS
DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY
WHEN RIGHT ON CUE
THAT CHEAP GUITAR
The harsh reality
of this moment
have kept me
on a waste land
I'm now a dune
complex
left in a
landscape
a myriad of thoughts
piercing through
my burdened soul
my hopes are
punctured
my vivid dreams
now a futile pleasure
I had envisioned
the admiring glances
in the near future
that I would be a
pathfinder whose
legacy shall stand
the taste of time
but this harsh
times have crossed
a rubicon now
I'm the haunted horse
Encounters
published by Sam's dot publishing 2007
Hollow People
The years roll by,
So many now
Since that cold March day when we took our vows.
Me 24 she just 18
As lovely a girl as I could have wished to have seen.
So the years rolled by as we loved, laughed and fought,
Took on life and its battles as three children were brought
Into a world we prayed would be safe
A world on which children no troubles would chafe.
Push those buttons down
Hope for three double sevens
Accepting what comes
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