The stream (all workshops)
jagged curve
rush up and touch
flesh free
the quick and ravaged
thrown down the hall
while the dream tilts
and the picture glass
scrawls a scream
in the quiet the rain fall
is gentle
forest dark as night
this easement
as a replacement
a heart that can never
be held
a pain fresh
a scar sky
night is spilling
from her drains
drawing all away
and I wash
and wash
in the waterfall
in the waterfall
of tears
Standing at that intersection
cardboard sign displays his plight
haggard face near screams dejection
he has no place to sleep tonight
Time was such a sight was rare
a big city kind of malady
now it seems they're everywhere
how could this have come to be?
Not all these guys can just be lazy
too many good men on the street
whose future prospects look so hazy
no wonder they all seem so beat
These values I treasure, to you they seem odd or even strange but on them I believe and rely
Without measure,
Dont make a face or look with disdain
when with my fingers demolish mounds of yam
yams pounded smooth by the pestle in a mortar.
You need not sneer cause I prefer
the tough labour of strenuous pounding,
to the quick fix, of an appliance that can cook, bash and mix.
To me the methods differ, so also does the results:
the former makes a better feel on my tongue,
while the latter lumps short and long.
Can you SEE the demons in my head
Driving me crazy...
Leading me to the very places I dread?
Can you HEAR their whispered threats
Draining me dry...
Dragging me to life's roughest edge?
Can you FEEL their heated breaths
At the back of my neck...
As it laves eerily through my hair?
Can you SMELL their gory, bloody bodies
Doused in darkness...
Hovering over my flower garden like bees?
Can you almost reach out and TOUCH
Their lethal shadows...
As they patrol; doing the night watch?
To him, love is ugliness hatched from Aphrodite’s beauty
For charmed by her nymph bliss are the fools
Often found to fall into those drowsy pools,
Enchanted with her fine fantasies
And sleepless elves casting spells of nightmares
As love is a mountaintop of blossoming cherries
Descending into valleys of vines and sour berries
in my dreams I imagined angels
but along came devils with turned up
fairy-kissed noses
mischief prancing buoyantly
in two sets of saucer-shaped, blue oceans
that brimmed over with fun
sometimes temper
sometimes sadness
but always love
two happy sopranos
sang through two little rosebuds
winked their way
through a world relished with
the uniqueness of youth and newness
that could, at times I needed quiet harmony
send me to the epiphany of madness
Came the wind one day
that took my hand,
Pushing me along the sands
and me a lad twelve years no more,
Heading down to Abbots Forge
The workings gone,
the roof caved in,
the sides just bent and rusting tin,
from another age when it was clad,
but me a young and sturdy lad,
I chanced to brave the dark within
and the curse of Abbots Forge.
They say he killed his wife a new,
Old Abbot with his motley crew,
accused her of betrayal too,
A claim posed by her kin,
When it is good for you
Won’t we have to share it?
Who ever disturbed you
Know we are affected too
In the good name of Him
Whom we bow to worship
I rebuke laziness
Stubbornness and ill luck
I rebuke the restless spirit
Men went on hunting spree
Women kept the home safe
What went wrong in the bush
when man fails to benefit
From fruits of his labour
Should home be forgotten?
I rebuke unsteady mind
Shatter impediment
Set on your pathway way
Dazed with pitiful bleary eyes
Spirit hopeless but in disguise
He acts strong but inside he cries
His life he wish he could revise
Bound to fail even if he tries
Anger explodes with no surprise
Blood an tears will fall as heart beat rise
Then fall asleep and meet his demise
somebody changed the face of the moon.
Luna was pretty before
but now she is breathtaking
instead of bright gray eyes lit by the sun
peering out from behind the clouds adrift
i see green eyes lit by the stage light
and the silent ache behind them
that is yelling in my ear
and boring into my bones
and closing her fingers 'round my neck
but yes, it is all welcome because
if good things take time, then
damn
this is going to be great.
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.