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The stream (all workshops)

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




No dark tide of wine can wash
the whale tongue that bleats of fear,
no miracle grape or grain
can coax the whittle wind to dissapear

When silence comes, grasp rushing in
between the lips of miracles shelved
which prophet water will benign begin
to wash the warring wounded self?

Trust then, not in cities
and rationale of fevered minds,
rather find the quiet quell inducing blood
of holy wine

The Ducks (I)

As night darkness rapidly fades
Before the sun shows its face
The ducks awaken from slumber
And await the sunrise together.

Spreading out their wings
Over the still stake they swing
Old and young together the sing
Looking down as fishes swim.

As the sun shines Bright
They spread their wings out wide
All fly but non fly too high
Then the sun manoeuvre high in the sky.

The ducks Settle down in pairs
Floating together and forming Islands

Pensive Native:

When we scorn, we lose
Walk a mile in others shoes
Don’t judge, let them choose


why must you marry two?
why must you marry three?
why are you a polygamist?
why did you do that?
why why-why-why have you chosen to punish us
why did you pressurize yourself?

The innocent child is desperate
because his plight is cumbersome
his mind is poisoned
for his struggle started in the morning
you owe him plenty
you have a question to answer,
if only God can free you a moment.

My Mirror sonnet eh!

The Mirror

You stand right before me
in admiration of self emulated beauty
the giggle is spontaneous and genuine
then you break down into a seeming reunion

now you dance after a refreshing bath
let your towel fall without a trace of wrath
then you laugh, the world may hear
as you are seemingly calling for your loved dear

Finally through life’s magnetic trance
you wander and mindlessly ballet dance
as raw beauty emerges, as fresh as it can be
your loved one is an implanted fiancée for thee


They loiter in every fish market in the world-
Some nap on a breeze above neon signs,
Others on the giant palm trees by the shore;
Some sit on the jagged tips of the moors,
Or on the walkways to the selling carts,
Chased by waddling and laughing children,
Arms extended, fingers fanning the air...


If you’re of the mind
That your life has been unkind
I wonder how you’d fare
With misery everywhere

It’s better to accept your lot
And build on what you got
Then perhaps you’ll be of worth
When you finally, leave this earth
WIZDUMBs by JA 734


So Moma came,
with a mission to give birth
And that is all a child should get,
And maybe a brother too,
to groove in pain with
And when comfort is found
They all must depart,
Some to graves, others to life.

So did Gloria with love and fulfillment
Buried in the sand
And all that is left is a lawn,
An abyss dug upon my chest

Culbert came and left with a friend
I kept poking my head from out behind
But the Dresden home was burnt to the ground

Cartoon Fat

At one time there was a boy with a large hand that had little white spots on it. He was taken to the Doctor and it was found that these white spots were not cleaning materials like White Out, as suspected, but that he had been born with them in his DNA. He wowed his friends with them. It really did wow his friends too, though when they saw him from a distance and especially up close they all thanked God for not being anything like him. Sometimes he’d go to the mall and stand there just like a dummy—indeed in perfect alignment with the other mannequins—and he fooled all of them.

My Moriarty...

My nightmare, stuff of nasty dreams
has come again, with all his schemes
His twisted mind with mine does duel
he hides in waiting, plotting cruel

I ask why, he torments me so?
says he; “I do it, to feel that glow
The glow I get from besting you
The best I get, is from fooling you”

It’s late at night and I hear his voice
I don’t want to listen, but have no choice
Unwilling partner in past times
Convincing liar, I abet his crimes


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