The stream (all workshops)
Junkies and gangsters and whores, oh my!
Junkies and gangsters and whores, oh my!
If I had a brain
I would not medicate my pain
If I was brave
I would not crave
other people's fear
If I had a heart
my original art
would need no pay.
There are many notes on my heart
scars, gallops, and pain.
Like a metronome you bested me,
Now acapella is in my name.
Little did I know
that a year from now
I would be on stage
and you on the prowl.
Wrapping me in your arms
you forgot to let me breathe.
That manly scented body
turned to jealous greed.
I no longer taste your lips
Now the table holds your band
we could not serve together,
So I no longer serve a man.
wait
dark wind
slip softly through the shadows
of white-washed air
stay
unseen
like ghost rain
be
unheard
like the migration of clouds
there is a meadow
of a thousand lost fireflies
that dream in my eyes
like distant stars
over moon-bright water
wait
dark wind
as crickets sing
the softest lullaby
let nightfall
cradle my evergreens
soothe my mountain soul
Eliese
in the bright noonday sun
her hair was the color
of creamy golden caramel
tilting her head to peer up at me
long lashes lacing each other
on her peach blushing cheek
just dusting her captivating skin
she looked good enough to eat
(so I bit her...)
It's the seventh month once again
the fireworks allowed that to be known,
my thoughts turn towards my daughter
and how much my girl has grown.
Turns out she's quite the mother!
She deserves some sort of crown,
she deals with so much on her plate
rarely caught letting anyone, down.
I believe she's really happy
though, in life there's always strife;
her secret is to do what she must
to achieve a happy life.
my mind is a crippled pear
speckled with afterthoughts
i get a little nervous and a little
tense if i don't get the punchline
but please don't open my skull
with the decadence of foreplay
ease me off my cloud of unknowing
with a gentle touch
and let it be
i still don't know how to play your tune
and if i must sing
i will drown
sinking like the sunset,
trembling like a leaf
on its way to the join the compost
of the nearly dead.
when the sun smiles on the leaves
just so,
they build a bridge across....
what bullshit! what banality!
i wouldn't know what a soul was
or wasn't
if it bit me on the arse,
if that
and i'd probably attribute it
to the nasty neighbor's drooling dog
and all i can do is mythopoesize
as long as i'm not in the grave,
creepy crawly things in hot pursuit,
waiting for some kind of recollection.
Pondering on the scriptures story
Of a rich man reduced to poverty
The vicissitudes of life he suffered
The struggle to keep a sane life intact
His foes warned, touch not the anointed
His wealth returned and so increased
Men, like Job are around us today
Made gains, married and multiplied
The ill wind of fortune moved around
And abided in their homes for a while
Some regained, reaped the harvest high
Graves swallowed others with their debts
There was a time when love was free
to make and share it had no price.
It was alright to just "be";
liberation was the only vice
But that was many wars ago
ere innocence of youth was lost.
Like old piles of dirty snow
now mortality figures in the cost.
For love can now result in death
and needles don't deliver life.
Where now the beauty which took my breath
cutting as deep as any scythe?
the heart of a woman
is deeply rooted
like a wild violet
and to know
the way berries warm inside a
hand
to watch vines unfold a thousand
blossoms
see poppies spread wide
open
to know this
is the only wisdom
worth knowing
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.