The stream (all workshops)
In goes the pain again
It knows where it belongs
Heavy heart becomes his home
The hearth for which he longs
Set himself before the flames
Skin and body warmed
But not the core of all the hurt
That he himself adorned
Dressed his soul in heartache
That he himself did cause
But given silence and his pen
Like wounds from poison draws
Weary is the warrior
Whose battlefield is love
Loss will tie him to the ground
Successes keep him just above
My tears well up as the children play,
one flapping a page to have her say.
Her angel wings, her hair like hay.
The host is raised and we stand to pray.
A little old man, hunchbacked and poor
drops his wafer on the floor.
A handsome woman gives him one more;
his body broken and we stand to pray.
The priest says 'fire' a lot, then more.
I saw one like him in Singapore;
reading the Vedas, keeping score.
No wine that time and we stand to pray.
My night;
a wicked witch
riding a crooked broom,
my dreams flew away
I softly play the lyre,
Lulling my beloved to sleep,
Beauty knows no bounds,
As the moonlight kisses your face,
But weary I've become,
As love and fate collide,
My lyre shall stop,
And you will awaken,
Our eyes shall meet,
For the first and last time,
My tears and heart will turn to stone,
My pain of longing to be with you immortalized,
Oh Medusa,
My beloved.
little snow white was a
beautiful girl
but with an awful
deep dark soul
she lived her happy princess life
no one expected she'd kill her father's wife
little mermaid
so naive
but with sharp and
scary teeth
price was charming but not smart
mermaid drank his sweet red blood
My exclusive moment is divine,
There all alone I was immersed,
Drenched with treasure of light,
For quietude is my supreme life.
The power to live in great thought,
Is ignited through an enablement
Of peace; and the serenity of mind,
Gives the dominion of eternal Bliss!
To write demands a connectivity,
And with a coherence of ideas,
Your mental prowess develops,
Into torrent of emotional power!
Loss reminds me
to appreciate the moments,
the beauty of time shared
This, the only kindness
grief seems willing to give
Luckily, memories know
to capture the fragments that remain
for refuge against the days to come
I held a heavy sorrow
beneath a broken heart
a wound of flesh and marrow
a spirit torn apart
I found myself so burdened
I fell onto my knees
among the forest wooden
the arms of barren trees
No longer were there leaves
the coats of threaded laurels
that autumn gently weaves
among the grass and florals
I turned to feel warm faces
between the gnarls and the bark
the homes, the nests, the places
of friends once hidden in the dark
Steel blossoms rise delicate
from the edge of cerulean sea,
forests shining emerald in shouting sun
where the serpent dances coiled and alive
to spend its jeweled questioning of faith
on ears too new with innocence
to understand the danger.
one bursting bite of pure delight
to fill her shaking heart
with absolute enchantment
at knowing there is so much more
than mere existence in a golden trap
created as protected paradise
to hold an ignorance unbounded
Darkness falls into
the midnight hour
at the verge of the edge
Shivering on a cold night
In a heavy misty fog
With echoes of the voice
running down
To the spine
Feeling desperately
and fearfully
In a loneliness isolation
Carrying with a beating heart
from a distance of spooky noise
coming across
from the deadly
entrance gateway
Of ghost town
The horror of the haunted spirit
crying for pleading
Of help
From the massive war
As the moon makes its
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