The stream (all workshops)
Deposition
flesh hangs
in obscene globs
from bloody talons
a bird of prey
stripping away
humanity
producing pulp
brutal force
of beak and claw
rip and rend
all that was
mild and tender
dashed upon
jagged rocks
on cliffs of
times destruction
When you see trouble
You better run in a double
So just walk away
There is no reason to stay
You are more of a man
Takes that kind of stand
Remember what I say
Just walk away
You don't have to be tough
You can say that's enough
You did the right thing
So that your soul can sing
Just remember to think
You don't have to have that drink
When I was but a young man
I flew high, by the seat of my pants,
I celebrated with my glass held, high,
plus, I rarely missed a "dance"!
Then, as I grew older
seems I'd break before I'd bend;
and, as life grew much colder
I learned the value of a friend.
Now, I am much grayer
and cherish days, as they go by;
with each, and every memory
causing my heart, and soul to sigh;
THE POET MAN
Once I was a poet man.
I wrote in minor key
the melodies
my soul would sing to me.
But now the voices are stil
and silence falls heavy
where all will is gone.
I've said it all and some.
It is done.
No longer cliché
of the day....
I don’t hear the music
play
anymore.
You credit me more than most over here
I was abused ... thrown to the sharks ...for consumation... if not consumption of
opposing poetic parlance....
distraught minds tried their utmost to banish me ...
but Loved withstood those trying times
and never gave in..... for only a single policy ,
we ought to imbibe
just remember friend this ..
Sitting on my big ol' butt
pen in hand with wrinkled brow
feeling that I'm in a rut
I'll try to leave that furrow now
yet I have no idea how
Myriads of different forms
sonnets, Haiku, prose, free verse
too many beyond most folks' norms
( I don't want to write anything terse
or so long it makes people curse)
Mind whirling, stooped shoulders tense
hand cramping holding empty pen
too many lines, too little sense
one good idea and I'll begin
still, I come up blank again
my daddy is strong and kind
i think he knows me more than i thought
he wants me to be happy
so he learned how to dougie
and when he did it he got in trouble
mom discovered that he COULD dance
"after all these years you bastard..."
she was annoyed but happy
because her husband could dance
finally
hazel fields
a cast of view
the comfort
knew you
the paper covers
the cloth attachments
titles like parchment
slips glimmer on
light like signal
towers
I feel your voice within
my ear
and my chest
and above a jetliner
cuts the angel
I know the chapters
written your consuming
the flash of your wet
brilliant eye
filled with stars and
smoke
and hidden issue
burning
I wish for more yet
you my pretti are the
only oracle
In the morning,
the sky opens its boundaries.
Sea meets the air with its scent
and the air comes alive with fractal
patterns, breaks its own dark
sepia monotony.
The lotus was closed in the moonlight.
Tender green leaves leave
no passages to know what passed through.
There are twelve Eastern pillars of light,
shafts of sunrise
in spatial dreams of mountains
rising in the West in
Bodhidharma's footsteps. Canyons
echo with birdsong.
fluorescent blue skies
blink and shut eyes
to look down,
from smile to frown
once the dirt road
with kicked up pink dust
now concrete lust
a raped paradise
blink then shut eyes
cry crystal tears
For lost are the golden years.
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