The stream (all workshops)
Mr. Bob
We never know how much time there is
when our stop will come
I wonder if that big old Buick
picked you up when you were done
I'll see you on that beach
walk the shore with you
We'll do all those things
we said that we would do
We will plant ourselves some weed
Have a dozen dogs
Drink some Rolling Rock
burn a bunch of logs
We had dreams of retiring
a garlic farm for funds
just a few more years
then it was time for fun
Placidly
paling petals
imprudently
primmed
in the past’s
pitiable
patterns
of passion
and pain .
wistfully wilting
themselves
away within
reality’s
time wrinkled
ripples of
the fallen rain .
a leaf
fell once on
my chest while under
a tree I was taking a rest
It tickled a ripped-apart heart,
that's brimmed up with grief
The sun came up, along with my hopes
For a much better year, now I’ll be steered
In a new direction, full speed; sixth gear
I resolve to dissolve what is stuck
Life will flow better, we can make our own luck
The sun also goes down, but I have found
If I chase a dream that is good for me
I’ll stay firmly on the ground
Life will go up, it won’t bring me down
Being grounded is low, but makes one high
I resolve to live a better life
By looking on the upside, - disregard the down
Second hand
man woman
hubby or wife
all need a replacement early
a car
a cart
Audi
or
Cadilac
even a micro and drier
when all pack
the only answer is
to just em sack...
buy afresh
or
change
with your purse
cut your cloth
with new scissors
according to its worth
then
then
lay down flat ...
buttons open
12 to 32 lines
I have vowed to make no more Resolutions,
for this or any other, wintry new year.
too many years end with embarrassed regret
all good intentions go by the wayside here.
Instead, I relax my outstanding will power
awakening anew in my energy restoring bower,
having reflected on my future in my good time
opening my sleepy eyes to find sunshine's shower.
Silence is not always golden
When it comes from the silencer
The sharpest blade celebrates
Flesh's first meeting
Every snapping sinew of rage!
Plastic ties etched in blood
Squirm, you had better not
Or your wrists
Will be ripped to bone
Do you feel like a big man now?
Stitched up lips
Upon your last breath
A liar's lament
Doused in gasoline
Keep my name out of your mouth!
Sin by sin
The clock runs down
A punishment carefully crafted
To fit every crime
Listen children and hear me well
Christmas is the time to tell
Your parents what it really takes
Not bicycles or shining skates
Not trees nor wrappings or throw away things
Nor cards or letters that the postman brings
We all know what to tell
What really dings a big big bell
It’s the time we spend the time we take
To prove our love and more to make
It’s peace and laughter that we bring
To each new day and to each new thing
I'm trading the whole of me
weighing reasonably on scale
show casing and wagging like a tale
padding life-boat alone as I sail
penning my prices in the sky
colorfully like rainbow fly
surely hoping just to be sly
though some moments one can cry
and if you fall stand up and retry
In our front room with the world raging just outside,
the string is wrapped just so
With a flick of my wrist the spinning top
races to the end of its tether
Spinning there, waiting for a command
– Walk the Dog, Rock the Baby,
maybe Around the World - look out furniture!
Years of casual practice work to master
my limited repertoire with the rapidly turning top
Its blur of motion and mostly predictable behavior
keeps my sometimes-misplaced sense of wonder
intact after all these years
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