The stream (all workshops)
The road ahead wears rough, there lies my path,
To greater heights my story calmly calls,
Fire and fiery pours success bath,
A ministry for sunshine, dipped in galls.
O lonely road, how long comes the strive,
Slow air, gushing winds; the only followers I boast,
Alone a lone warrior walks, breezing towards cold survive,
Step on steps, till I enlarge my coast.
When so, so young I had a bear,
Her name was Granny Overthere;
A stranger name could not be found
You've not heard that one I'll be bound.
It came from younger brother Tim
Who, whenever mother asked of him
What did he want with which to play
Would point at Granny and loudly say:
"I want Granny, Granny over there",
She always sat in Father's chair.
Thus it was that she was named
And forever Tim would take the blame.
Slay the dragon.
Plunge your courage through his heart
then kick his ass out the door.
Drench those deviled doubts,
those hellish hesitations.
Saturate him in fire, rally
as he burns, shrivels, and shrinks.
Douse his cold, harsh remains in spittle
then sweep his putrid ashes
to the lowest level of apathy -
acknowledging that you are fearless.
You are The King, The Queen, The Knight.
The Ultimate Dragon-Slayer.
You rascally being,
hollowing out the wood beam above my head!
Annoying sawdust alighting onto my lap
like flaky kindling, the discarded leftovers
of your new home, scattered and tossed aside
in the May breeze
We share an arena, a residence -
yours above the porch furniture
within the old ceiling.
Mine, my daily sit-ins with the rocker,
caressing the creaking floor beneath us.
To those wanderers that go off
to far off places
To escape their mundane existence
To climb higher, to be greater
To think clearer and breathe deeper
To challenge the ordinary
To resist convention and be
the change-makers
To outlast the last call and be the renegade to take charge
To forage ahead and lead the pack
To be renewed and committed to the mission of the great unknown
Entrapment videre licet fiendish
gnarly hustling scheme erector -
sent me to the poor house, where alms
not forthcoming to ease financial affliction,
where yours truly money matters still stymies
ways and means to relocate
to a two bedroom apartment
courtesy low income housing.
Jasmine and Jeremy loved to read
A book every night at amazing speed;
They’d lie on their bed,
Or sit in a chair –
Reading book after book after book right there.
Books in their room would be on the floor –
All sorted by author, by topic and more;
Then next to their bed
Were books that were new –
With pile after pile after pile to view.
Stories of Sinbad and Dorian Gray –
Stories by Wells, Poe and Hemingway;
The fantasies shelved,
The histories on racks –
With page after page after page of facts.
I wish you knew
How much you feel like home
And how much happiness you bring me
And how i wish to tell you that
Perhaps it's fear
Of the timing that's passing
It's passing fast but silently
Time hurts
But silence hurts more
It's like the sound of waves
Soothing and comforting
But also
Threatening and alarming
These giants among mortals
I grew up listening to them play and sing
I'd sit up late at night
trying to imitate their thing
They were more than just men
they were rock stars so to speak
I was mesmerized by their playing
it had a profound affect on me
Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck, among others
played music I could keep
Songs that carried me through hard times
too hard to bare then it seemed!
These giants whom I worshipped
are becoming an endangered species
Why must I always feel like this
Sadness, with a heavy heart,
Like my life feels like it's gonna stop
And did it ever really start
I think I'm hearing voices, songs to be precise,
I thought it was the radio,
But no radio was in sight
I've caught a glimpse of something,
Out the corner of my eye.
But the music has intrigued me most....
Have I lost my mind?
If I died tomorrow,
Would the people I needed most
How could they care?
To them I'm already a ghost.
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