The stream (all workshops)
SOUTHERN BREEZES
southern charm and southern comfort
southern breezes and southern spices
scorching days and sultry waves
of cotton dresses
satin sheets in perfumed nights
passion’s fire seething into daylight.
I took in hand a block of wood
and looking at it long I stood
trying my best to see within
the hidden form, where to begin
At last I saw an inner bird
and muttered"hmph" no other word
then set out with my keen edged knife
to bring the wooden bird to life
As at my feet the shavings grew
the shape emerged I so well knew
with care I carved each curve and nook
regardless of the time it took
We all live on the same street
Our houses and lawns are so neat
We go to our jobs
Where they cut off our nobs
Then go home to our wives, so discrete.
He is North,
long, far up and cold
She, South,
sultry, sanguine and bold
the terrain is rough
none dare enter
He, tossing a
dime
and wishing for adventure
Bored, recalcitrant even spiteful
Life has handed him jokers
and many other causes-
Lost. Unmindful of his hurt
His need. His lonely longing.
When granny passed over last Wednesday
It was something we never foresaw
She seemed to be so fit and healthy
But then came the knock on the door
The policeman was standing there solemn
He wasn’t sure what he should say
Then all of a sudden he blurted
“It’s granny, she’s just past away”
She’d been to the pensioners social
She was dancing and knocking back gin
The silly old girl gave a bit of a twirl
When her heart, it just stopped, it gave in
pockets full of clouds
the shower of light
from the lamps
gleam like shards
I can feel the waves press
upon the solid shore
I can feel your breath
in the rains that fall
forever on this day
as if the sky were weeping
for winter that is lain aside
and heavens drizzle
staining all the tide
that lonesome haunt holds
fast
happy winter
will you love us at last??
I sent her across the river
she entered a cloud
she followed me with Keane eyes
she is everywhere I am not
this woman I longed to be
walking
parallel paths
we meet each other on occasion
lifting each other from our muddy feet
we carry ourselves
with the burden of being
rivers of silence
rivers of sorrow
flowing into the great ocean
of bliss
a lotus blossoms
petals fall
and the sky breathes us.
Let me try
perhaps dear friend
replace the grave
with real grace
towards the end
enter you may
discover a grave..
hope you will
comment upon western
by Loved written
HA Ha Ha
Religion’s Failings
Relics relying on rhetorical ruses
THAT
Enslave elenchus elements
INTO
Living lateral lies
ABOUT
Insidious idols
GIVING
Glorification in gratuitous
TO
Intermodal internment
THEN
Oscillating oracular orders
RELEASE
Nudnik nonentities
CREATING
Slaphappy slanderers
You blush when I talk of ruddiness
Yet you stay in the sun all day
I heard you talk of colours
And refer these to mean men
Black is pitched against white
Red has nothing to do with brown
Mixed are termed colour in between
Racial scale rooted in discrimination
What tint of skin do you prefer?
Given a chance to make a choice
Charcoal black or snow white
It doesn’t really make a difference
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