The stream (all workshops)
I stroke the paddle one more time
today the water's calm and clear
so it carries me a little way
as if suspended in mid-air
above a world of moss and fin
With each smooth and careful stroke
I get nearer to that other shore
which began as a mere hazy dream
oh, so many years before
when this day was unthought of
and tomorrow seemed for ever
After his ghastly crucifixion,
Jesus awoke in a room of mirrors,
nothing more than another wandering Jew.
In time, facing himself, he wondered about delusions
was his sacrifice for nothing?
Was no one saved?
And where
was his father? Fathers are supposed to welcome
their sons home, he thought, still bleeding at
the sight of holes in his hands.
He sighed the sigh of only those who know persecution
can, and from this breath came a pure white dove,
and the dove held a sprig of home.
guillotine
pack a perfume of my love and affection
take along with you
my sense of humor and emotion,
leave behind a bunch of roses,
in the library of time
let all worldly poets view it
from time to time,
as you smile from beyond,
don't ponder
but in wilderness' fiefdom fearlessly wander
then love amongst heavenly,
ethereal
folks squander,
if you have some left up your sleeve
still I wonder...
Without you
I'm living in a hollow
nothing satisfies
my thoughts
are shallow.
After you
I'm unable
to draw a smile
or depict sorrow.
My words
contain no spirit
they scarcely
dance slow
without you-fellow.
SEPIA
old photographs
filling empty spaces.
soulless faces
fading into sepia
immortality by design
fading into Time
Spagetti, Spagetti
the best meal of all ,
with big meat balls,
and noodles so tall,
tomato sauce,
pepper and salt,
then i dropped my plate,
oops! my fault!
The melody in my heart turns discordant
My tears freeze midway down my cheeks
To my flesh I've now become a servant
And my mind with immense sorrow, leaks.
Pain is a constant visitor
In this damned body of mine
Guilt, ever so sinister
Charges me a heavy fine
Anxieties like large, flesh-eating termites
Crawl up my every opening
Feasting greedily on my insides
Dear Lord, what is happening?
Awake the sun heat spirits
dance through glades of ghost
grass where the whispers
of the winds stir hairs
on napes of necks
and your Blazing disc discourage
noon ruckus in sweat
trickle runs between thoughts
thick and sticky
Swelter up the power grid
where hipsters sip pina coladas
and ribbon streamer conditioned
air slips into rooms
while fire hydrants spray kids in
cities where the rivers far
and the lakes not safe
cool active minds and bodies
in motion
even if perception was to loosen exponentially
until we could feel realities blend
the colour of twilight be seen in its divinity
through all our senses to gently wend
even if strings that vibrate through forever
releasing acoustics of every single round
that exists within the chromatic scale of ever
should on our ears progressively sound
even if piquant flavours of eternity
did assault our appetites to taste
aromas roaming in blank perpetuity
over our palates softly baste
Pages
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.