The stream (all workshops)
This poem is a tasteless tear,
the first the poet’s shed this year!
One verse it formed, and then the flood
that bled, in ink, like precious blood.
This poem is a cry for help,
coyote’s howl or puppy’s yelp.
It’s pointless though, and quite absurd
to weave with woe each wasted word.
This poem is a poor excuse
for pent-up pain to be let loose.
A poet, out of shame or pride
should in her soul let sorrow hide.
I wanted to dance
with a young one
she didn't like my advance
she did not like to shun
but said simply for fun
her Boy Friend
was about to come
She missed all the fun
the night was full of dancers
enjoying delighting
her date never came
she had made an excuse lame
she lost a lovely night's game
o what a nostalgic shame
decades have since lapsed
A Mopoke on a cyclone fence disturbs the friendliness of night.
Forbearer of an imminent death which might occur.
Invites of me to take a chance, and brave confront the fearful sight
but there withal with good intent, to visions must defer.
The soul is never very still in panic does it flit and fly,
and dodges life as if in pain and teases death with lures.
But Mopoke eyes take in the thrill and Mopoke senses in the cry.
Who both to death are not the same but are to life a cure.
Poetry is therapy, stress it can release
Like sleep it’s therapeutic, and it seems to be
A collection of ideas, our hopes, and what we see
Combining fact with fiction; a winning recipe.
Poetry is passion, a passion for the world
Written inspiration, there’s power in the words.
A conversation overheard, can ignite a flame no doubt
Or a stressful day, a peaceful night, moonlit sea, or drought
It’s dramatic, can be tragic, that’s what life’s about
But a sudden gloomy sight, still can’t put the fire out.
Oh weary traveller,
Who has come from lands unknown,
Come to my doorstep,
And rest your aching body,
At my Hestian hearth,
Let the warmth of the fire soothe you,
Let the flames of my desire hypnotize you,
As you drink the wine of poets,
While I gift you words of seduction,
Shyly hidden in blushing roses,
Time ticks in distorted frame,
A world gone wild, oh, hearts to tame!!!?
Keeping head above water to stray from lame.
Good and evil butting heads,
High, getting lost in slippery treads.
Trying to finish the sew, serving needles through living threads!?
Saddens aroused in bitter sweet symphonies.
Legends to be made from millions or pennies.
Bodies and souls unite and divide, numbered fews to many’s consistently collide!!
Categorized by stupid assumptions, opinions and what not,
Trying to win through all that’s been fought.
I'm going to walk down this
road I'm on. Till I'm done
singing this same old song.
There's nothing but tears in this
song I sing, nothing but sweet
ol' misery.
My heart is hardened my soul
so cold, so I walk on down this road alone.
There is nothing but the dark I see
so when I go no one will remember me.
I look towards the heavens
I look towards the sky
but nobody answers and I
don't ask why.
My life is nothing but a lonely road
which I will travel so all alone.
On the highway of life
there is danger and beauty
and limitless manifestations
of both hate and love.
You may pass billboards of anger
or mountains of happiness
purple and shining.
Traffic jams of despair
and storms that over work the wipers.
There will be pitfalls and pit stops,
Scenic vistas and starless nights,
and so many risings and settings of the sun
The wealth of the universe
all paved in gold
and chased with silver
meandering like a million rivers
refracting a billion suns.
Bridges are linking
The left and the right
They’re spanning the void
There’s no need for flight
Where bridges are gone
The fighting ensues
People are dying
We all sing the blues
In order to stop
All hatred and fear
Stop burning bridges
Let far become near
But in human minds
There’s still the same shit
„Let’s burn that bridge
When we come to it“
As hard as I try I’m unsuccessful
Of amending my faults
Promises, words and prayers
Don’t yield successful results
But only continue to affirm my
Weaknesses and add to my
Grief and sadness
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