The stream (all workshops)
as yesterdays hand
slips off my shoulder
tomorrows embrace
takes my lips
in this, today
I breathe a thousand sighs
and soar a
breathless wind
I've heaved the night
until the day broke
and stood in the middle
of all and nothing
and now I live
in the milliseconds
between this world
and the next
Eat and be merry
A glass of wine with cherry
Sparkling in eyes
Of vibrant young
Nothing of concern
Is discerned
Staring in bottom
Of bottle of booze
Youthful fun
Faded memories
Looking back on
Wasteful youthfulness
Experience, knowledge
Deep rooted
Produced wisdom
From bottom of the barrel
Sound vision…
I stared in stereo,
listened in colour
You were speaking,
that little smile was
playing at the extremities
of your lips.
I felt myself
content,
That long ago evening
we both knew…
I am not a robot
I am not made of steel
I’ve a mind I’ve a brain
I can think, I can feel
Through my frame courses blood
Deep inside beats a heart
I am not a robot
Don’t tear me apart
You could never repair
The parts that get broken
You haven’t the tools
And words softly spoken
May lead you to think
That your game has been won
I am not a robot
The damage is done
mission meal
cupped in its styrofoam
is bright as seagulls
fast between the
towers glass
myopic hunger
like a yearning
like a cigarette
addictions yoke
Its all concrete baby
except where feilds
roam in empty lots
and chain link ghosts
full of candy wrappers
shopping store hosts
fluttering in their
cosmic flurry
while the thick
and real traffic scurries
Ebony Dreams
I am giddy in your presence
the scent of you fills me
with exhilaration
we become one with the night
our souls launch into the cosmos
soaring wild and free
spirits you and I
this tryst becomes a trial
of endurance with the arrival
Of the dreaded dawn
when I awaken to find
you are no more
and our love has gone
banished to the far off
lands of cherished dreams
never forgotten but
always a finger tips' distance
away from my yearning grasp
The days of the praying mantis are over,
and the night of the spring peeper is silent
but for toadstools growing in the soggy-bottomed earth...
They call him the naked biker
he streaks from town to town,
teasing all the ladies with his manly frame.
When you hear the engine of a vintage motorbike roar
you can be sure that he is on his way.
So lock up your daughters, cover your eyes today
You have to hope he won't dismount,
and give you the full show.
With his friend John Thomas he might terrorise the town.
They call him the naked biker
He flaunts his butt cheeks far and wide
He's such an exhibitionist you have to run and hide.
Once I glanced
freely all about
what I saw determined what I was.
If the streets were full of pretty girls,
if the sky and clouds remarked,
if my feet propelled themselves,
I knew I was alright.
If everyone was ugly,
and oily skies roiled
and everywhere was uphill
then clearly not.
My city, our city, is not mine
or yours, nor ours or their's
it is as is
but not as need be
each step,
each glance
becomes a need
for action.
As Lou hurried down the alley, she stumbled once or twice
She had had one two many, against our sage advice
The whisper of the footfalls, the furtive sneaky kind
Gave her chills and shivers, as they came up from behind
She whirled around real quick, tried to see what it was
Lou had a glimpse of werewolf, teeth and fur and claws
She should have screamed right then and there; now she's out of breath
No one will hear her now, as she meets her death
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