The stream (all workshops)
Today, I have grown a heart of stone
I look not again upon the stars
Nor delve into the craters of my scars
Deep hurt already rings inside of me in an abysmal tone
I have questions. Curse them anyway
Never do I get straight answers
Nor am I ever pointed towards the right way
I foot all alone in my misery, night and day
I went forth with cloak and cowl
To tarry where the night things howl
Where shadows 'fore the moonbeams fled
And night-dreams with the darkness wed
I hear your voice,it's taunting me
Beside the foot-path by the tree
A whisper,tremor,thin and low
Calls me pleading,I will not go
What do you seek,both night and day?
Forever coming here to pray
In hope somehow this penance may
Wash your soul from sin away
the chill of the night gives me goose bumps.
my skimpy attire no longer cools me from the hot, burning, sun.
the fall of the night, the moonlight diamond white takes the sky.
i didn't bring a sweater or jacket to protect me from the chill of the night.
now i stand here with my arms folded across my chest, rubbing my cold skin, trying to create friction from my hands to warm my frigid arms.
I remember chasing fire flies
way back in my childhood days
beneath the star-strewn southern skies
then, still unmarred by urban haze
After supper in late spring
when the heat of day had gone
listening to the dryflies sing
we'd dart and dodge on the front lawn
Once caught I'd put them in a jar
twelve or fifteen, even more
as train whistles drifted from afar
and bull frogs croaked from near pond's shore
In the middle of the night, awake, I watch,
but not the world.
It's as if I'm waiting for some poignant phrase
to align me with the stars ...
have you anything for me
if I run up the middle will I find what I need
it's always on the tip of my tongue
could be right
but more often wrong
Exhausting,
waiting
for words to bring me life.
the mirror........
you stand right before me
in admiration
of self emulated beauty
the giggle is spontaneous
and
genuine
then you break down into a seeming reunion
now you dance
after a refreshing perfumed bath
weary rise
patina soft
and light falls in
sideways
evaluation
all consideration
costs
turn mists to humid
sunrise
The curve of night
is sleeping
and beams of stars
have gathered
where happiness
lived
Inquiry by RW
I cleanly left the rectory.
I pray for souls which burn at me.
I flagellate till flesh turns free.
Dichotomy. Dichotomy.
This angel takes which road for now?
Unsure at which his knees should bow
A servent, supplicant or cow
God show him how, God show him how
A burning fills his abdomen
inside a hunger deep within
a boy pledged past to be nomen
a roaring djinn, a roaring djinn
the glow sham
curtain dreams
are sliding
drawing a breadth
where livid light
will splice
ocular transmittance
these image jaunts
fall like random whispers
snug up the buckle
suck a breath
and swift away the false
premonitions
cacophonous limp
slender wrist twitch
thrown care
from the edge of that bony hip
but I baby
dont scare
how you love
black thick
a stare of night
calamities tryst
The ghost of Ben Jonson draped itself across my troubled dreams last night
buying the rounds in a strange pub, blue mermaids and bagpipes on the juke box
angry in his critique of my style
"abandon excess and ye kill yer muse" he raved and waved the glowing green absinthe in my face.
Crazed I staggered and swayed as I pushed to defend my pace reciting odd rhymes in iambic pentameter to impress this specter of gone days
with both rough hands he grabbed my face, intent eyes pleading as he begged "use thy own voice boy"
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