The stream (all workshops)
I run to her when loneliness
Bears weight within my bones.
I seek her when resistance
To change shackles my mind.
I climb her mountains to be soothed
And have my senses put in order.
I walk her plains when life becomes
Flat and loses its mystery.
I investigate her hidden paths
When I've lost my child-like curiosity.
I touch her canyon cheeks and feel
Her tears for things destroyed
And held captive by urban decay.
I miss her in the way that sometimes people say
"Covid is over"
I mean, we're all acting like its over
But its still everywhere
In the form of her things around my house
She used to take my breath away
And now its taken away by muffled sobs
I dont think ill ever shake this aching in my heart
Come love
fear not the ailing one
lie on my shoulders
but just for once cuddle
waterfalls have now gone dry
‘tis been years passed shy
as the end approaches
why be wry within each other lie
simply just try
one more moment
may not come again
then why would you want to ever
remain
our love we did not finally contain
upon my cheeks
plant a kiss
one may be
sunday fun
rising high above
fulfillment conquer
This vast and fragile heart
Which has broken so many times
Never ceases to coerce the mind
Despite the missing pieces lost
During the shattering and
Every subsequent reconstruction
people are so fickle and changeable emotional
the only things you can depend on are the sun rocks
ocean and mountains religion also a stabilizer
your wife the time math which goes forever and gravity
laws of physics
what is passion
at times passion is felt more
within than without
the physical passion you talk of
no doubt is momentary
but a passion of remembrance
is long term memory
love both
you as well as me
of a passion we speak
simple poetry
passion indeed
our love
for this breed
A visit down memory lane,
brings so many things to mind.
My first memory was swimming at my aunt's pond in New Hampshire.
I stepped on the leaves in the water.
I picked up my legs, they had leeches all over them.
The next thing I recall
My mother and sisters went to Ste. Anne De Beaupre Cathedral in Canada.
There I was fascinated by the statues.
There was one I particularly liked.
I don't even remember the name
I was sure it was a saint.
It had a sign on it saying no photographs.
Words were breathed over the unhatched egg
The destined rider was chosen
To bear the heart of a dragon
Their jewel-like hearts of hearts
Fearlessness, tenacity and valour
The rider exuberates!
She rode along the Dragon’s back
And share the heart of the dragon
She carried the hearts of fire
And held on to the breathing earth
She became invincible
With bold courage and a brave heart
She fought her battles adventurously!
Expectation versus myself
The ultimate showdown
The finger guns blazing, the desert dust storm with blinking eyes hissing a vipers warning
I see a red dot blinking on my forehead
The reckoning remains the ending of the bible and I find myself seeing god in the shadows
He stalks me in my dark hour of need and I find the devil more enticing with every assumption I make
Calculation, presumption, prediction,
The freshest imported goods for the finest meal of anxiety I’ve ever tasted,
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