The stream (all workshops)
A fog settles upon these shoulders
the cape that sweeps across the plains
the biting wind sings its wailing dirge
whose fingers pluck and scrape and snap
Once upon a breath so dreary
the banal landscape stripped away
a peril hunched in fitful slumber
morning promise not guaranteed
When golden shafts part the curtains
and birdsong fills the early air
a once dormant heart rises
thankful for a good cup of tea
Witch
I walked across the broken glass to be with you
My feet were torn to pieces
You looked at me and let out a laugh
Knowing you'd led me down the garden path
I ran across the burning embers to hold you
My skin was burnt and charred
You looked at me and kicked me hard
Knowing my heart would be forever scarred
A witch without a heart
A whore without feeling
A bitch to lead me on
After all those things for you I had done
I met a Japanese man
Poetry talking we did
Somber old Haiku
His wife sat silent in back
His vision made me see him
She wasn't there though
Flying to Australia
Seeing family again
She smiles her remarks
Rainbows with Golden Lining
You dwell in imagery
I, in an isolated museum
You come to whisk me away
You’ll find me behind
A newer
Golden creation
Like some smashing rainbow,
I will appear in the sky,
Some one will then say
Twas Loved.
Some day
They’ll question how and why,
I’d find my way
Striking gold to become
Shakingspeare!
Ah!
But not shaky
But to all humanity
Having become so lively
Cover me
like the scene descending
outside our windows
with a fresh start
with the cold beauty
of pure intent
Blanket me
with sparkling softness
Create me
the world, anew
Give me eyes
like this child's
wide with wonder
seeing
for the first time
this snow
.
watching ice cubes melt.
like our love
in a tumbler
...no, not love
but affection.
no, I mean
...you know!
where does it go?
once solid
now
melded
into background
fulfilling obligation,
function, duty
after time,
what's left?
tastess dilution?
tepid staleness?
thankfully,
the buzz
we love in big giant gulps,
remains
Untried dreams we now regret
( we'll do it later, just not yet )
Perhaps a message t'was not taken
led to another's poor heart breakin'
Had ink never flowed out of this pen
this poem would neither start nor end
maybe we'd sleep well at night
had we not begun to write
Untaken roads, choices not made
debts forgiven and repaid
a decision made or one we shirk
a word that does or doesn't work
people are odd
some give -- some take
perhaps more takers
than givers
a
debatable question?
givers are banks
always open
currency -- love
and care
those who make
withdrawals -- coming and going
don't often
make deposits
leave behind
in their wakes
destitution of
emptiness unwanted
ran out of currency
gave it all away
bank closed.
trapped here in the middle creation
that separates heaven and the underworld,
I was struck by blazing arrows coming down
a sign of self-destruction made by the anger of The Almighty..
the days from my flesh banished innocent hearts to arrogance,
all the time as when God saved the Devil;
crawling for forgiveness for something not to be forgiven,
before stepping out from something real but forbidden..
He's a Jealous creature,
tearing his heart out
it gnaws at his innards
Tormented, stalked by insecurity.
and bonds he can't escape,
a garrote for his neck.
The ugly side of love
rears its poisonous head
He lashes out verbal intensity
Words slashing
like razor blades.
Lacerating her affection
Suffocation won't keep her close
The tighter he squeezes,
The more likely escape.
Punch drunk
and dazed by emotion,
he needs to lay this burden down,
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