The stream (all workshops)
We'll walk along the warm wet sand
and watch the sand fleas disappear
on the Myrtle Beach grand strand
the way we did one bygone year
With gulls filling the clear blue sky
with mobile white and raucous laughter
buzzing us as we passed by
on our way to ever after
I'm sure we were among a crowd
beyond the dunes where sea oats grew
and certainly the surf was loud
but I only saw and just heard you
As we approach the 2012 presidential campaign
Let’s remember our prayer’s to let freedom reign
So many that fought to take a stand in 2008
Paving our way with-in each and every state
We knew that sacrifices would have to be made
The previous administration left us feeling betrayed
The near future’s budgets having already been decided
Adversarial wall’s leaving the House and Senate divided
So change has most undoubtedly been hard to achieve
Only made possible by those who continue to believe
"My husband died," she says; as I shut the taxi door
"I've got two cars, but lost my license, so I don't drive them anymore
They put me in the hospital, I can't eat, I guess I'm sick
I'm all alone, except my dogs, and my eyes keep playing tricks"
did you see the moon turn gold
just over the horizon
just before the dark granite of sleep
took you to his breast?
was there a queen's ransom that
emptied your treasure room, did you feed the
hunger well enough with gratitude
to silence the marketplace? bang your drum
slowly and play the sitar with your saint's calloused hands,
passion is a fruit hanging from the tree
to know God in its aftertaste is not a cruel death
i will build myself between pages
divide pain into chapters and
fill my hands with rain
arrive at the same place
at the same time each day
as fall fends off winter
i will chase you away
for i should not be afraid of
what makes me shiver under the sun
your name, i will leave in tealeaves
a message at the bottom
of every cup
you will not make me believe
light is illegal, or hope
but i will count the scars
on my tongue
My dearest consort
I have been finding myself more with in the rain.
I can only hold fast and wait for the days of sunshine once again for me here.
Setting and wondering of what tomorrow holds for me. but even the light of day has past.
Grim days flock to my side like snow flakes in the cold winter.
soar
the inertia flow
the wheel turning
shinning at the hub
vortex passage
seated in the cool shade
the garden lush colours
the chains mired to hooks
in the wood slat ceiling
we rock to and fro
while hummingbirds taste
the nectar
up there the black bird
like a dream
caught in a thermal thought
rising stark and in motion
gliding when I dream
leaving this body
this freedom like a wish
Rancour
Bleak
I feel it
Do you?
I value sunsets and sunrises
mountains,
red rocks
and the souls in the eyes of animals.
Yet, rancour, bleak.
We have got better
we no longer hang someone
for the theft of a loaf of bread.
But not good enough,
not by a long way
To stay alive
to have a reason to have children
we must be better.
It seems simple to me
(with an IQ of 180+)
That competition is obsolete
co-operation and balance are survival.
Disagree.
The mocking howl of a lonely bird
Sitting on the tree branch in the yard
Mimicking mama crying out her pains
Overtaken by bugs and being alone
Arthritis, diabetics, hypertension and rheumatism
Her companions and strange bedfellows now
Sickbed, her field of play with excrement and urine
One room, the span of her whole wide world
She was a woman who dared men
That pounced on the helpless and the weak
Men who crossed lines protected by women
And played soccer with guys in novelty matches
do not read this poem
if you're a shrinking violet
do not read this poem
if your cock is hard and
you're looking for a hole to fill,
tough shit
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