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The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.



When I was a young man I chased them by the score.
They were fast, young and lean.
Conquest was my aim, seduction was the game.
Procreation, I was playing with biology's rules.
I cared very little about much more.
They were young soft and smooth yet firm all the same.
No wrinkles could be found on these young goddess.
My hormones run amok, logic and caring little found.
Notches in the belt was all that mattered.

Far and Near:

All routes we traverse
Places and phases diverse
Speck in Universe



You are a thorn among roses,
sharp and cutting, hidden from the light
deep in the shadows of raging green.
evil is unknown until discovered cowering
behind smiles of honey, and Death soon
reveals itself in the eyes of the dying

A Moment Gone

Took a walk with my dog Rosie the other day.
Walked by the orchard on the hill that we pass by on our stroll, stopped to look back as I always do. It’s a very pleasant sight regardless of the season. The trees lined up in rows with the sky as a backdrop.


Your age speaks
of experience
old is gold
but not today
we are only sold
to human machinations
if from the Internet
we stay away


don't have an iPad
what they say
debit and credit cards
are must
use em before
your brain
they crust

and say

all left behind
with no
is theirs

so take your cash today
have a gala day

drink wine and dine
then dance
all say


I'm looking for a feeling of deep admiration;
For something elicited by it's elation.
Not misguided, thinking it's better to be feared
Than to be appreciated and then endeared;
Not exactly in that order. As long as it's placed
As the center of what is the immaterial.
The actuating cause of my being; of my overseeing
My acute, distraught mentality; my lucid faults
Accented with the faculty for asking for what I lost.
Can I have your respect and love?

bitter breeze

traffics steady stream
the airports glow atop
the hill
the people moving
the grit in their grimace
cheery chatter
the dogs nose picks
up the backscatter
we're alive on the track
nose to the trail
fingers freezing
wind finding all the
tears and cracks
in this old coat
and worn up pants
fashion be damned
we need a blazing
fire to dance in
the light
everyone heading
home from the shifts
the shopping for
the night
The old soul stirs

Desperation in Alliteration (for incest survivors)

Desperation in Alliteration
(For Incest survivors)


daddy's darling

delicate and dainty

debutante daughter

on display

Daddy's doll

dulcet dutiful dove

desire digs deeply

deftly does despoil

defiled delicacy desecrated

distraught destroyed decimated

desperate daughter decries


Years Long Past

I walk past the old football field, empty, no gladiators, no cheering crowds. PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM BACK, PUSH THEM WAAAAAY BACK! Just echoes of the games once played. Just memories of those standing, watching the turmoil on the field of battle, young warriors in their armor girded for war. Distant images of time long past. People I once knew, no longer remembering their names. November winds again blowing in my hair, what little I have left. I wonder what paths all those people took? I guess I’ll never know.

Some Call Me Crazy.

Some call me crazy,
Some think I have something loose.
Why do you bow
to a God who is as fictional as Mother Goose?
Call me what you may.
I know this for sure.
My God is real.
My God is pure.
It is how close we are connected
to the source that determines the
I say this lovingly....
How close are you to God
this day and hour?
We can all get closer.
God bless.


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