The stream (all workshops)
I await autumn
as I sit among the green
and sweat drips from nose
Metered summer days quick-dry the fresh mirage
so just because, we'd ring the bell,
and opened every door no matter where we'd been!
Except for in my den
but, things all ended up well;
I'm the sincere poet.
Magic muse that abuses my every suffering
leave me be in silence, from my cell;
be honest, tell me should I "post"?
I'm really, just the host;
be too dark, and your poems may not sell;
I'm the tortured poet.
Summer is too darned bloody hot
scorching killing
Rains by gosh
one gets drenched
weathers weather away
Spring, oh I forgot it comes much earlier
hope it brings…
Autumn is deadly it erodes
leaves trees nude and exposed
my entire roses die too
hardly any survive,
the way i wish them to.
Winter comes and the heating is on,
it’s not so much as the cold that kills,
But the meter reading,
my, the electricity bill
how I wish there weren’t any seasons
the sun stayed beneath the horizon
older
I can now dabble
even dibble a little
if I choose
what can anyone say?
"he's just a dabbler!"
that's ok
I'm old
and have no purpose
for my dabbledee-do's
beyond the do'sing
do you?
if so, you must be young
that's ok
can't really hold that against anyone
but heed these words
too much purpose
can bend you in strange ways
look out!
genuine integrity counts
you'll know what I mean
eventually
Upstream.
We could try it,
pretend we're salmon
going back to the place of
our birth, make love
(in human terms)
and die.
Nah, I'd rather live for awhile
longer
still
meditating on the sand mandala
of life
before an unseen hand
sweeps it all away as if nothing
ever happened, as if the way
night falls can be forgotten
and the moon in her drunkenness,
falls from perpetual grace.
folds of crisp paper
puzzles till the end
within each small fold, a story
imagine
sitting silently folding
a meditation
creation
pure paper figures
surround the artist
frail and sharply bright
delighting a child
pleasing the old man
~
both at play
~
Feign
rush rush
dance pinhead spider
lush
through the hollows of the drain
down the octagon of pain
zig zag
sweet madness
sucked in
and swinging like
a weathervane
the winds that
race inside my brawny
quick
the mantle of my brain
crackle hiss
a pipe hot rich
I was born
by a bad ass bitch
They are mostly lame
but do-one is very brave.
Say your passion, your believes,
challenge the things in this losing world. Corporate feudalism makes anyone without power nothing. As poets we can challenge that.. The most important thing is that corporatism is totalitarianism and if we don't fight we become feudal serfs. Nothing. We can make a difference. Greed is the evil that is destroying the planet. Challenge it at every possibility. We are the entire human population, we must win if we stand up for human co-operation and goodness.
AGUA SANGRIENTA
Yo era passión y fuego
la sangre me corría caliente
en mis deseos.
Era tuyo.
Mas me dejaste caer
agua sangrienta
de tus manos
BLOODY WAT ER
I was passion and fire.
My blood ran hot
In my desires.
I was yours.
but you let me fall
bloody water.
from your hands
That entire one wants to see
must be beautiful,
colorful, spectacular too
a tinge of beauty
lips thin
eyes blue
rosy cheeks
wow a dimple too
a tint
of all that is desirous
of a feline you,
a smile
a cheer with a whiskyness, about you
your thoughts of ecstasy and love so true
a trace of every thing
those have you,
is all that what most of us want
to have of you
just a tinge!
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