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The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

In The Meantime

Submitted by brittle light on Sat, 2011-05-14 19:30

here
hear
phantom photons
plunk and bounce
across a skull
made of space
and a small reflective buzz
looking for something to do

deciding to entitize
...to become something
a mouse, a snake,
or a poet
come what may

Too white, too dark, just eggs (Shark Pool Submission)

Submitted by Nevel on Sat, 2011-05-14 15:34

The light in many houses is
not a child's toy
(do angels play
with the brightness?)
my body too weary to
carry their strength;
a taste of Eve's apple and
nibbling at the root of the world,
past eyes became arrows
under strangely-familiar music,
language fingered hungry wolves:
a Dutch farm in circular embrace.

I milked sky in children's bones,
inside a tulip's belly; mud was my nickname
dirt-confused anger on grasses too gentle ---
'till pigeons nestle on the hillside.

Workshop: 
Shark Pool (initial workshop)

BOOK OF PROSE

Submitted by Psyve on Sat, 2011-05-14 14:39

BOOK OF PROSE
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala

There’s people out there peeping through the window,
There’s people out there listening at the door-
So, grab your Book of Prose
And don’t you curl up close:
Can’t you see that someone’s coming across the floor…

Your Mama might float in through the curtained window,
Your Papa might walk in through that bolted door:
Then, no point my studious frown
When the book I’m holding is upside down:
Don’t think my heart can take this anymore…

Lao Tzu (570-490) B.C.

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Sat, 2011-05-14 13:25

If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.

If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.

If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbors.

If there is to be peace between neighbors,
There must be peace in the home.

If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.

-- Lao Tzu (570-490 B.C.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Promoting Peace, Nobel Laureates Square Off, Politely

Emotional Poets

Submitted by loved on Sat, 2011-05-14 13:17

Emotional Poets

Poets are but emotional beings
Trying to vomit inner feelings,
Commotion
And
All mental pollution
For they feel,
Sharing their inner salts
Will them heal…

Poets are all individual beings,
Each one has an expression
Of one’s own,
How does Neopoet that disown
And
Compress their views
On the poets
Those who are real poets
Are very few,
Including my reader,
Me and you…

FOR ANNE

Submitted by Tam the Chanter on Sat, 2011-05-14 12:15

FOR ANNE

What can I tell you, Love of mine?
That I have never told before.
To say "I love you" one more time;
How many times? who's keeping score?

Another day dawns, for we two,
We face the world , we are a pair.
For what I am, then so are you;
The one for whom I deeply care

I feel the years now have some weight
They start to slow me but its true
That I can face my final fate,
For I've been blessed by loving you.

STAUNCH

Submitted by Esker on Sat, 2011-05-14 09:56

white milke in blue bowl
and the silver with its bright and dark
bent bow like
while the television
flickers
its brilliant pattern
telling me the world
is coming apart

the tap still lets water flow
the hydro works when I switch
on my lamp
the gas heater rumbles
when I need warmth

not so elsewhere
whirlwinds removed
houses lives pasts
and radiation floods
the sea

there is no comfort
for me if I live
there

Seed

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Sat, 2011-05-14 08:40

all things shall pass away
but one seed of love,
from it grows every tree of life,
the feel of ecstasy
in the green velvet
of Om.

Heaven's Choir

Submitted by judyanne on Sat, 2011-05-14 06:07

Abounding discoveries have taken us far
with galaxies galore we’ve found billions of stars
Awareness runs riot as research admits
the older perspective now no longer fits

As science and faith both draw closer in thought
a new way of seeing’s progressively brought
With all of reality so carefully re-etched
a choir of angels seems not so far-fetched

"Going to the beach to find inner peace”

Submitted by Barbara Writes on Sat, 2011-05-14 01:45

The most beautiful place on earth is the beach. The beach is where I found my inner peace. The first time I ever went to the beach was with my spiritual brother Stan. He owned a carpentry company and was offered a contract to remodel the kitchens of the beach front home on Myrtle Beach. Stan called my husband to let us know that he was on his way to do this job at the beach and wanted to know if we wanted to stay the night at the beach with him, his son Charles, and Charles’s wife. His son and daughter in law worked side by side with him in his business at that time.

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