The stream (all workshops)
A mama’s word is always right
Whenever it is asking for the truth
With a seeking own advice
For nothing is too silly
From the bottom of the heart
With a genuine promise
Of wisdom and guidance
Never think of her otherwise
And place any doubt about her
Because she will never portray
With any sign of lies and betrayal
even from the bad and good time
Last night I heard the thunder roll.
Did you?
Saw bolts from Zeus scorch the skies.
Did you?
Stepped outside, quite naked,
Felt Calandra's icy tears
Shock my body, cleanse my soul,
Make me gasp, make me whole.
Did you?
No winner no loser
I'm just a passing poetry soldier
basking in the shade of white blanket snow
I feel no glamour nor the cold
At my oldish age
standing in the
For whom the bell tolls
one day I too will go up
in smoke as in cigarettes rolls
No tears need be shed
I was just another bloke
trying to with poetic stalwarts cope
many kicked me like a football into the sky
but sad I could not fly
Up with the lark at the crack of dawn
A familiar mundane routine
It’s only ten years since this boy was born
But he tells everyone he’s fifteen
His coat seemed inviting, on that cold winter’s day
He accepted the invite at once
The comfort incited him, to go all the way
So he feigned a hurt leg, and grabbed hold of a cane
This way when he’s out, and about with his flock
He could then take his time, alone with his laughter
After all, if the sheep, don’t have enough food
There’d be less of them there to look after
Time touches all as it passes by -
pages ripped from old calendars
battered shoes beneath the bed
red barns faded to gray
yellow photographs
wrinkled faces
empty fields
sunsets
lives
***
They had told her from the start
But no amount of laughing or scolding or pleading
Would convince her otherwise
They begged her to take her life off pause
She begged them to believe in what was never there
She cried
An illusion draped before her eyes
The moonlight drew her the same outline every night
At her request
She doted and was not doted on
She hoped
But disappointment swelled in her
She breathed
It never feeling like she was truly living but
She was her own Impediment
Everybody has a story
The way their life plays out
When the last page is turned
Will you give a whisper or shout?
Some people believe in fate
Well, I will be the first to say
I believe you write your story
In the decisions you make each day
Don't let somebody else decide
How your story is going to end
There's empty pages up ahead
Don't be afraid to pick up your pen
Three's a charm I've
heard people say but
what if that charm
never comes my
way.
I'm scared that my
charm will be
a negative one
so please God if you
hear me don't let me
be the broken one.
I know I have what it
takes
so please don't let
me down for
goodness sakes.
My tears are all dried up
I doubt I
can cry anymore so
please hold my hand
when they take my
baby out the door.
All I could feel
were the calls
of the worrying crows
Midnight-black, as they are,
picking over the remains
of your absence
And in this way
I miss you,
waiting for time to
chase them away
green-eyed woman, hair of ginger
looking too good to be true
one glance and she knows me
yes she does, through and through
a suggestive wink of an eye
then a twitch of her hip
sliding into character
a mischievous pout of lip.
unobtrusivly watching
this woman's trained vamp
everything about her whispers
I'm no ordinary tramp
looking hard I see through her
how can this bit of famine fluff
make a grown man start to weep
and my heartbeat run rough?
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