The stream (all workshops)
How can I encapsulate
all which I feel
like fitting the universe
through the opening
of earth's gate
words are insufficient
to paint the clarity I see
as if asking,
why do birds fly
on my coldest day
when warmth
seems so far away
you come as the Sun
on a single golden
Ray
with slits for eyes he peers inside
those dusty corners in his mind
until he sees with certainty
the depths of his humanity
now laying there disheveled on the floor
remembrances of hoops and hurdles
leave sour tastes, like milk that curdles
and though he doesn't know it yet
this is a day he'll not forget
for it will be unlike those gone before
he said someday he'd go south,
away from the gaunt faces of
the men and women in his town,
all the young pretty ones
worn out and obese
by the time they turned
twenty five
far beyond the
whining relatives,
whose crops had failed,
the weather too hot
or too wet for success
Disciples of emotion
Protectors of innocence
Children of passion
Baptized by pain
Artists of the soul
Their heart speaks
In words of truth
That exposes
Heals and avenges
No army can defend
The artillery of a pen
No general can outwit
A mind bathed in knowledge
No politician can speak louder
Than words from a soul
Isolated from rationality
Labeled by society
Inspired by agony
Kept in their hearts
Torture system
Stretching cracks
Snapping bones and breaking backs.
Daily grinding
Rusty chains
Deeply flaying marrow pains.
Poison potions
Slyly nursed
Drunk to quench a dying thirst.
Vital organs
Slowly fed
Bleeding toxins to the head.
In confusion
Happy dreams
Drown the sound of harrow screams.
Withered muscles
Flapping flesh
In the graveyard maggot creche.
Bloated bodies
Crawling flies
Spilling out of hollow eyes.
I see blackberry winter's here
that very special time of year
when thorny vine's small white bloom
announces colder weather's doom
It's cold enough to wear long sleeves
to ward off spring's last chilly breeze
yet warm enough up in the day
to show that cold won't long hold sway
The flower of this lowly berry
reminds that summer will not tarry
this mini-season won't last long
so don a cloak and come along
take in the snow falling like thoughts
slow in their spiral
languid in their language
dark and mottled under the light
the grey where night has not
slept
where the wind has not removed
this cold that slips between sleep
and dreams
stirs like the gusts
the parking lot entertains
night haunted as a lonely ballad
The darkness overwhelms me.
I live in yesterday's world.
Each yesterday is darker than the
one before. Seeing a sad black
life crossing out the days on the
calendar, one at a time.
Looking back, I cannot see past
the black shadow that engulfs me.
My life is spent trying to retrieve
yesterday.....I realize that it will
never come to pass, backwards I'm
wanting to retrieve the yesterday.
I realize that it will never come
to pass.
We were introduced, "unlikilly-like"
if we were to agree that that's a word,
her demeanor seemed so serious that
it called for the absurd.
So, I began to re-scramble words
and string them crazily on a strand,
and offered to clasp them 'round her neck
in hopes she'd understand.
Her aura was simplistical mystical
her eyes captured each scene,
then, she portrayed a knowledge worthy
the wisdom of a queen.
thought I'd moved forward
left all the yesterdays
where they belong
but unfinished business
called today and threw me back
into a whirlpool of emotions
can I close those doors
where eddies full of anger
spin constant
shut out hands of pain
that twist a heart
til it can sob no more
perhaps tomorrow will bring
clarity to a mind that now
suffocates in a mire of regret
a mire -
full of words unspoken
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