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The stream (all workshops)

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


The Passing Poet

I am the passing poet, don’t you know?
A shooting star, with rainbow-coloured glow
I am a misty morning you once knew
A butterfly, once beautiful, that flew

In summer, when my God breathed me to life
I gleamed like golden ray from blade of knife
To blind with first love’s flash of flaming fire
A goddess girl: my dream of deep desire

I am the poet blessed with briefest breath
A daffodil, whose dawn is day of death,
My dreams, once daring, now I’ve dared let go
I watch them all dissolve like melting snow

Snap, Crackle, and Pop

if it doesn't startle
or bristle
I don't need it

if it doesn't enliven
or blissen
I don't need it

if it doesn't arouse
or excite
I don't need it

if obtuse, or convoluted,
boring, or cliched
I won't like it
in the very same way as
not liking
soggy cereal


Like salty tears in driving rain
our days dissolve unnoticed
as if they'll ever come again
as if on time we'll ever gain.

All we have are future days
when youth and life boil in our veins
and days not yet come are a mere haze
like some unrealized phase.

But to all those small years come and pass
with no chance to ever be reclaimed
they leave like the smell of sassafras
or perfume from the new mowed grass.

That Girl Is On Fire

Summer spits fire pellets as she walks down the cement
Hitting the ashy heels of every person passing by.
She slaps them across the cheek,
leaving a streaming hand printed along the jawline.

Yellow is My Color

Falling yellow leaves
Shifted in the sunlight
Before the midday hour
My natural hair hung gracefully
On my shoulders.

Nature reclaimed her path
I love the color of yellow.

Why is life this way
The homeless uncared for
By the powers to be
Controlling the masses
All over the land.

Yellow is my color
Yellow leaves drifted to earth
Yellow butterfly flutters by
In the green grasses
Grown tall from uncut lawn.

The Famous For Being Famous Syndrome

I know what is best
you don't
go away
let Me do it

I am

don't do that
don't buy that
don't go there
don't say that
don't even think it
I will know

I will

did I just say that out loud?
my handlers are gonna be so pissed
but that's their fix what I say

my job is to be Me
make you swoon about Me
create a scene around Me
be the most flamboyant Me that I can be

ciao, got to get back to it
you can thank Me later

Ocean Thoughts

The restless Oceans portray your ways
You who wanders so each day
Learn to be at peace with those around
Oil covered seas, so smoothly bound

Let others flail and beat their drums
Drift in gentleness play in the sun
Play as the sea plays with bounded lands
Stones of the universe churn to sand
Make smooth stones of throw to earth
Move the greatest depths in quietness
Learn how your being is so defined
Encompass all you touch or find

tanka [fowl life]

Like his sister flies
Her brother struggles onward
Keen is their mother
The father has flown the coop
Fowl kingdoms ever endure


I suddenly take two long steps
to get down wind from me
and check on how bad I might smell.
How bad could it be?

I was almost soaked in sweat
on this hot late August day
so it likely was an even bet
my pits might chase blow flies away.

Then with a cautious sniff or two
to see how bad I might have stunk
the light wind brought the news to me:
that I could run off any skunk.


If the reign of love stands supreme,
on gloomy earth there will be gleam.
Across the earth hate we must restrain.
Over the universe let love be sovereign.

Existence of love is not a myth,
let us nurture it to supersede on earth.
Love does not only exist above,
let us open our hearts to the age of love.

The reign of agape we all await,
for its dawn on earth to break.
But this starts with loving oneself.
Then our environs completely it will engulf.


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