The stream (all workshops)
You ask me what my favorite color is,
And I say dark blue, like the night sky.
But really I’m thinking of the blues and greens that dance in your eyes
And paint a field on a summer day.
You ask me what my favorite flavor is,
And I say strawberry, like I always have.
But I’d be lying if I said I don’t crave your kiss more than any amount of strawberries.
You ask me what my favorite song is,
I tell you there’s too many to name.
But every song has a different meaning now that I have you.
Rekindle thy flame
Send thy fire on a rampage
Haven’t you heard what they say?
“A strike a day keeps the devil at bay”.
I'm learning how
To unlove you
It hurts worse than loving you,
Knowing you don't love me back.
Some days weeks even months on end
don’t know if the muse will ever alight again
it’s not as if we are anything like companions or friends
at least not enemies far as this soul can comprehend
Seeds come from somewhere but who can really say
something heard imagined conjured or read
stray kernels traveling over space time from sources long dead
welling up from past lives visions of what lies ahead
A bucket list portrays its needs
a reminder to share and give
filled with a sense of desire
winning a lottery ticket
buying a big mansion home
driving a fancy Mercedes
traveling around the world
taking on the responsibility
to serve life with purpose
never to let it be forgotten
as a committed diligent duty
not to find any excuses
to neglect with any regret
take on a kindness act
as a generous gift
even a giving a hand
of serving is a simple
mind of gesture
with a contribution
Just a couple weeks shy
and seven years ago to the day,
I still remember contractual obligations
our previous residential abode
724 West Railroad Avenue,
Bryn Mawr 19010 zip code
volatile relationship – poisonous
nasty hubris jump/kick started
with aforementioned videre licet, alte Frau
(quite similar to Hamburg
Its meat falls off more each year
leaving open spaces between its bones
where snow gathers
and weeds climb.
It is gray, now,
and hides in the autumn rain,
perhaps like an old elephant,
large and saggy,
its trunk forever searching
for something lost in the earth.
From the country road,
it seems graceful
resting against the surrounding
sullen fields.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you since the world was young, since the great sycamore forests of California were saplings.
Sometimes I don’t know you at all, you’re a stranger across the bar who I’ve just locked eyes with, intriguing in the way that you are unknown.
I like both, the mystery and the understanding.
When you put your hand in mine, it is new and exciting but it’s also divinely right.
Sometimes I think the gods crafted you for me, the way we fit together so well.
I watch the people, feel their pain,
I watch them struggle, to stay sane,
I see their hurt, I hear them cry,
I understand why some want to die.
I desperately want to lose this sorrow
I do wanna live to see tomorrow
It's just that, when everything is feeling right,
Someone knocks me down, and makes me fight
Life, it seems is one big struggle,
Always trying to breathe and stay strong
Trying so hard to survive this life,
Trying so hard to belong!
My heart doesn't just love you,
It's so full of you
Your compassion, generosity, kindness
Your face,
A portrait painted by angels,
And green,
It's everywhere
In fields of green where dreams ignite,
Each leaf adorned in morning light,
In whispering trees and mossy ground,
In silent depths where peace is found,
Where emerald rivers softly flow,
A story told by your eyes.
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