The stream (all workshops)
I see 'forever' in your eyes
we have come so far, together.
I never thought I could feel this way,
until there was you, coloring my skies.
you never loved before you met me
you thought romance to be sober and polite
in your wildest dreams you never thought
it could be a wild expedition in fantasy
sonorous, I woke you from staid sleep
imagine your surprise, being pursued.
I knocked you off your feet
no woman had ever before made you weep
Upon the season’s sultry breeze
the lilac wastes her perfumed breath,
while sunlight streams through trembling trees
to light the land of midnight death.
Sad swallows sigh upon the wing,
with swift and song thrush singing soft;
the eagle, on his throne, as king
above the clouds soars safe aloft.
And I, a mortal, dare to dream,
although I’m quintessential clay.
Beneath the sky, in vain, I scheme
to conjure one who went away.
Spoken from within
Begging for help from above
Listening with hope
She unlocked me
with "help me
I'm a lady with a story
but it's not like jackanory,
more like "poor me".
I’m as helpless as a kitten.
"I need you like a compass
to guide me through this morass
caused by an unfaithful tight ass
whose bitch resides in Sweden
but it will be no Eden
when I’ve cooked his goose."
Good morning, I say
As I stretch the sidewalk
Making room for strangers to walk through my day
Leaving but footprints in their wake
this bathtub
I trace over my skin
And let the water free me
In this bathtub
I am inhumanly gorgeous
And I do not know why
In this bathtub
I scrub my past away
But by the time I'm dressed
She's back
this bathtub
I trace over my skin
And let the water free me
In this bathtub
I am inhumanly gorgeous
And I do not know why
In this bathtub
I scrub my past away
But by the time I'm dressed
She's back
this bathtub
I trace over my skin
And let the water free me
In this bathtub
I am inhumanly gorgeous
And I do not know why
In this bathtub
I scrub my past away
But by the time I'm dressed
She's back
Mutton dressed as lamb,
You can understand.
When it comes to the crunch
It’s something to munch.
But the digital sound
Is fooling around,
When the sound that is true
Should be coming from you
Not hidden circuits and wires
That can’t match your desires.
You press button a
A horn will play,
But you know it’s a cheat
The sound’s a deceit,
Because your cheeks are not puffed
And your wind pipe’s not stuffed
Trying to make the right sound
With your feet on the ground.
At times I, the butterfly
Am far removed from pupal stage
Loved by many friends and folk
Whose conversations I engage
This is not my normal state
For I am likened to the fly
Given to latibulate
In shadows watching time go by
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