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The stream (all workshops)

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


Being (Imagery workshop)

Perfect weather
Sitting in the summer garden
Inner energy and outer climate are one
Seamless Passion

My body and nature world
are one perfect harmony.
Self and universe are one pure unity

Perfect Weather

Sitting in the garden
Being one wholeness.
I love the summer
Everything beautiful
Creation wonder
Human life Miracle.


Paper Trails...

I have ridden the paper trail once more
The scenery is just as gorgeous as it ever was
The sands of time have drifted over the pathway
But the shadows of yesterday, are marked
by dead branches and scuffles in the dirt

Nowhere is there a sign, that says this way
The distant mountains yet to climb, were so far away
Now they loom ever closer and seem insurmountable
I will plod on through the sad times and bad weather
The mud that sucks at my soul cannot stop me

I Like It Icky

i like it icky
mad to exceed the world
in dark dreams erotic

to evoke blood wet mouths
insertions paradise of fluorescents
in a dark aperture

her pudenda
a rolling hill
gaudy wound like a smash mouth crying
split torn tearing, pink estuary
for gluttonies' joyride
that can hardly be endured
twisted tongue spice melts and glitters raw

the sheets soaked through
matted hair in saliva
blood and eggs
the screams of monsters rapture

oh feral abandon
every thing else a toil

Self Perception

I can't be without a crowd
I can even be a cloud

Always Taken

My mother never liked slender girls.
“You know, she needs some meat on her bones.”
That was Ma, old school, gotta love her.
Slender was for me, just attractive.

My gut, when I first saw her jacket;
Twisted deep, warm, I’ll never forget.
Loved that long gold or blonde hair as well.
“Her hair is too stringy,” Ma would say.

Ma never liked the girls that I did.
Maybe avoidance was for my Ma.
Maybe it was that they never met.
Michelle caused both my knees to weaken.

What She Said

why put my body in a heavenly context
if you watch me shower from the bed
and think it beautiful
why disguise me in vain ritual

my name is not Eurydice
my breasts are round
my mouth a blossoming rose
my sex a secret best

veil me in poetry & I am still your beloved
why share the secret with the world
if I die will your mouth be silent
will the poet follow me into oblivion

To look into her eyes and laugh

Usually life is long enough
To become what you love.
What if it is not?
What if you wake up every day
Hating your own face,
Lying all day in bed
Facing the wall
You hate yourself,
And you know your life is short,
Know, but don't care?

Usually life is long enough
To meet people you love.
What if it is not,
And you are lonely
Like the last dot
In the last novel at the end of the world,
And you know your life is short,
Know, but don't care?


pods bursting with seeds
get scattered in autumn wind
springing surprises

Fallen Queen...A Fucked Up Fairy Tale

she could not bring herself to kiss
the dirty little frog
not getting passed his green slimmey face
and warty splotchy skull

never handsome enough to love
in spite of his viscous sincerity
snail fish

The Christmas Holiday Season

Christmas has come again
It's a great time of year
To be with your friends
And enjoy some great cheer

Is it all about gifts
Or trimming a tree
Give each other a lift
And some Christmas glee

It can cost so much money
If we have it to spend
Certainly not funny
If you have none to send

People are more generous in the holiday season
Bless their hearts; every one of us
Whatever they do; whatever the reason
Do it without a fuss


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