The stream (all workshops)
the flakes are falling
soft in purpose
like the sky turning
announcing her
mystic shine
beyond the fond
blank manner
how many blanket layers
cover the distant autumn
the summer laugh of
joyous balsam dancing
in he wind and the livid
skies aflame in rays
reaching
the streetlights are coming
on along the shores
and the dark green
waters hold their calm
I want a night of dreamless
realm
dark headiness
and sprinkler ghosts
rushing wet damp
pavement
Beneath the crashing waves
I am weightless.
Flowing with the circular current,
The sun shines through the crystal surface,
Refracting endless colors all around me.
My bodies six feet higher,
The waves crash into my chest.
Looking up to see God, so blue above me,
I hear the ocean moan.
You are perhaps
The cynosure of many eyes
despite your blue eyes,
you are the poet of five decades
that’s not old yet
the age is of no significance
time and the water
that has flown down Mississippi
or Thames,
may be Nile or Ganges combined
doesn't show or give off my age.
I care but tuppence
as my mind is young,
a teen’s
and
as an actor of poetry ,
as it seems
I’ m just an adolescent
and
upcoming in many a poets dream,
Albeit
perhaps, it’s too late,
* I still recall that little creek
tucked in between the mountain ridges
only seen by those who'd seek
escape from the workday week
on a waterway which had no bridges.
..................................
The cold mist of a waterfall
beads my old wool coat and skin
as I answer winter's call
easing down this small stream's hall
on a sylvan stroll again.
1)
"A POEM IS LIKE A GEM"
20th September 2010.
A poem is like a gem, the saturation of a text,
so complete, and being shorter than prose text,
beautiful as such.
In the readers mind, while reading,
it dances in unison with his own thoughts,
his gathered knowledge, his word associations,
his joys and sorrows,
Bless Canada where
I dwelt in self ordained confinement
and
woke up each morn,
to the sun,
trying to peek in
through the venetian blinds.
I felt like playing mischief,
closed my eyes,
till the sun was up
in the heavens,
only for a brief moment,
Suddenly,
snow captured the sight of Canadians,
I rested still wanting to bask,
in the winter sun alas,
THE GOLDEN DOOR
From sunlit shores
across gray seas
like Alice into the Looking Glass
through a Golden Door
we passed
with dreams of better days
Fools with foolish ways
clowns and buffoons of sentimentality
were we
to hearts who would never know
or see
souls that in passion’s fire glow
we love our liiviing
we mourn our dead
we open our soul
for the world to see
and are misread
Lying on the canyons rim,
With you here by my side,
The Colorado air never seemed so sweet,
And the stars never quite so bright,
At this moment on the canyons rim,
The desert air is cool,
The clouds all have a silver lining,
From the bright mountain moon,
Lying here on the canyons rim,
Your long hair surrounds me,
Enveloping me like a curtain,
Your scent is all around me,
Each day I breath anew
With every moment I smile
In my heart I sing
Your laughter holds the world
My hand carasaed in yours
Theres butterflies in my stomach,
Love in my every move
Your arms are my escape
Come see me fly
Help me soar
Be my modivation
Love me forever darling
Watch me smile
Live my life
Be my one and only baby
dirty beneath her nails
like dark carpet trails
and kraft dinner leaking
from the pot like pails
nude light bulbs topped
with fluff
gathered round her
all her stuff
happy singing to her
songs
the grubby coloured
humming earbuds
as
she sang along
I often wondered
how and whys
we dangered landscapes
high as sails
full of winds of addicts psalms
immersed in magic
tragic balm
the epic nearness
of hearts calm
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