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The stream (all workshops)

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

 

My mom passed away early

Beautiful mom yours

I once composed
''Mom Smiles''

If you have some time
over a week end
do smile
my mom also will love you

She may not be able to give you a ring
she has now no Internet connection
where ever she may possibly be
but gaily she sends
a dozen rosy kisses for me
through the winds
the breeze
the storms
through rains

and

I fly back kisses daily
the clouds carry them slowly
but deliberately

Galvanized!

During the wee hours of my Prime…..
In such diurnal course, I was wallowing on my reading desk
Trying to read meaning into my tome….
There came an utter excitatory…..as I looked out of my window
Bewildered by the exhilaration of the throng down……
Holy smoke! “thou eyes couldest not believe what I saw as that early hour”?
Shocked by the crowd that shouted euphorically…
my vision became like a hat with a diaphanous veil……

Subliminal Hackle

hip check hallway
spin turnstile heart
clatter
red or white
win or lose
whatsa' matter

delicate wool knit
cardigan brushes
on my bare arm
the bruise deepening
cupboard door bore
the fist
my leg the worst of
corners bite
Like pussywillows
on the trail
Her stream of
perfume like July
blossoms
in Beaver grass
my trail to the wake
of memory
where the dead sleep

King Arthur

King Arthur

The angel’s pity whistles as King Arthur rises.
aquatic echoes boiling in incandescence
and pillars distant with flame. His eyes drool

blue as pirouette storks flash behind his eyes,
ore in the crochet fashion Guinevere spins.
Repast weeps, her heart’s wound spins
as a green-skulled widow rotting in orchid.

Yet in krakens glare and wilting stare
must the warrior return to battle, arisen
mounting with the screaming cackle
of his lightning black mare and wounds
mended with tallow and sky grease.

NO EXCUSE

Staring at a page of white
waiting on my muse
to supply something good to write.
I get no hints, no clues.

I close my eyes, let old mind drift
(that has worked for me before)
but nothing crosses writing's rift.
All that comes is Susan's snore.

Next I read a bit of Frost
to see how writing should be done
in a form that's almost lost.
Result on this night? none.

Our Father's Keeper...

Please come out now
the danger is past
We have made certain
that this is the last

Your refuge is safe
no more poachers to flee
You'll continue to thrive
protected and free

We have taken such care
to make sure that it's so
We'll keep you secure
though still free to go

We recognize,
you still have your needs
We are your keepers
feel free to breed

We know independence
is worth the good fight
We will never forget that
It's your basic right

she never sleeps

bodice of night
the swell of stars
caught in that cupped valley
tin of fizzy beverage
'well I am a bit tipsy'

Graceful mornings

Too early in the morning
going about to the forest
to enjoy greenery
the breeze
the fragrance
the chirping of birds
the small meows of cats
and
barks of dogs
the cocka -doodle-do
of cocks and hens

view the distant wild animal's
yawns

do come along with me
rejoice natures gift
as well as the sweetness
of my voice
yours will fall
alas on deaf ears
sad for you
but
SMILE
lovedly

A Love Held

I sit here as the evening draws in
A quiet time my thoughts to regain
There your presence from a past time
Shows me of when I was love blind.

All those years and I know it is still there
A vacant look across my brow does appear
Yet inside a turmoil of beauty and peace
There your face and touch still in place

I know that over the years it should fade
That is a weakness in others that played
We didn’t play you know as things go
It was a forever thing we kept on show

IN DAY LIGHT

The moonshines forth on the mountains
Giving us hope the light sustains
My people are in darkness
Giving reason to my sadness
A pyramid exist called classification
Giving room for our division
A quest to enrich, empower oneself
Creates the room for greed and envy
Corruption sets in as soon as gains start raining
Stained minds, mine shallow in the mine of the mind
Where much is not hard to find
Oh dear mankind could you be kind to your brother
The son of your mother
A voice calls out to you

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