The stream (all workshops)
the distant cry
from within
desire to sweep the past
with sunrise’s fast arrival...
to
let the time’s tolls be due
let flowers reek, perfume somehow
red, crimson and blue
wipe the sweat of my brow
forget the loathe-some
of a long distant occurrence
with demise of thoughts of desperate dreams
manifestations
of things gone astray
Thinking
of the wonder
of perfection
a lush green breeze on a bright
summer-like day...
You and I don't need to punctuate
the silence with words that can not
add anything to this art of being alive
to be
and to know what already is
THE WARS [APOCALYPSE]
And across the fields
we began to run
each and every one
The enemy was close behind.
Suddenly
a bullet struck my spine
and I fell paralyzed
deep and hard
into the morning mist.
Those still alive
fled
to the other side.
I lay days in the gray
of the dying and dead.
until I could rise
once again
in fear and dread
for there was not where
I would end.
I had a dream… after a long laboring day
Of rose petals falling as rain
Bloody red petals… falling softly at my feet
Filling the entire world with its fragrance so sweet
…Turning my vision crimson
Then the sun opened up its door
And from it marched angels making ready to soar
The clouds rolled open like an ancient scroll
Revealing verses written in ink of gold
Hearts were laid up on a pedestal
Mouths sang songs, celestial
In my ear rang a line of that golden verse
A line my heart was quick to rehearse
drape a moment
cross this idling chest
I feel your tingle
you lick the tinge from
a curled lip
hiss
"Kiss my bullets baby"
I'll be your pocket of sorrow
if you'd hang your heart
from this worn sleeve
but you're a fortress
full of ghosts that greive
Too many graves, too many fields
filled with human failure's yields.
All those crosses in neat rows
where the dark green grass now grows.
Call them soldiers, call them men
each of them was someone's kin.
All were pawns in someone's game,
each death different yet the same.
They fought for politicians' ends
yet died on the behalf of friends,
meeting their fates in lands turned bloody,
giving all for their best buddy.
I've reached the conclusion that hairs have a seed
if not tackled early, then that's how they breed
like weeds, you can pull one right out by the root
but always it grows back, my chin is the proof
and I worry so much about it
it's probably why I'm thin
when I get old and senile
who's gonna pluck my chin?
I asked my son, John, to be sure that he did
if ever I went to a nursing home bed
he said that he would, 'though I do have a fancy
he only agreed to, to pacify me
field of dreams
first stroke of scythe
ideals shatter
....
frozen sunlight
piling to the sky
blinding vision
...
distance erased
mystery looms
fog lights look cool
...
clock watchers
and longevity
a living hell
...
lawn mower busted
dandelion jungle
straw and camel nightmares
...
twiddling and tweaking
experience forsaken
photographs are nice
...
sailing seven seas
midnight watch, flask of rum
dearth of scenery
father....
although he was seriously ill
the surgeon declined
to operate
but he adamantly insisted
I'm paying, he snarled...
who knows
when the dangling hour...
will come
post operation
he lay horizontal
while the world rotated him a time
around the sun
then
sooner than expected
standing
… walking...
the young surgeon died
patient survived…
for over two decades
thereafter...
one’s mind has power
foreign to what is rational
What life had me learn.
Living is never without lessons-regardless of vast resources no man can live in absolute isolation for long.
A sound education from the ivory tower is never solely academic wins excellence in academics promises but never guarantees-something more is required.
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