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Primal Poetry workshop

This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.

Wait I'm Coming... [Primal Poetry Workshop]

Pulsating rhythm, chord of chants
Dancing with stars and gods
Who goes there?

Totems built of dreams
Animal spirits in the flames
Snakes in the grass

Ancestors speak of the past
Listen children...
Where have you gone?

Reaching out
Hold the vision
Wait for me


Listening to the drums (primal poetry)

he heart begins slightly to race
and she is not happy. The steady
thum, thum, thum, is not her taste.

a little boy is being physically bullied,
forced to be subservient to the will
of a more powerful other.

mind then drifts to abstractions
where it picks up the eternals
to bridge the tempora sphere.

Then the beat calls me back, the heart
has accustomed, and I can understand;
after all, we all come out of Africa.


ANCESTORS (Primal Poetry)

Here stood our ancestral home
the crumbling wall marks the spot
here a sheep was led to the slaughter
to appease the gods and atone

for faults which our destiny
has blossomed into crimes
there my cursed father once stood
and shouted to us, his children
to come back from our play
to our evening meal and sleep.


Black Blob Primal Poetry

in the twilight of the night
before the day light comes
a black blob
a white light
a lion's head was formed...

a black blob appeared before my eyes
a white blob came from the dark side
and the face of a lion formed from the light
three times is what i saw...

tiny blue blobs
appeared at the bottom
in the corners
the image...


More Drifting (Primal Poetry Part two)

More Drifting

I felt your presence, so I have returned
Sitting there on the beach mind in a churn
I heard the call from you for a place to go
Here I am so that I can another place show

Let us walk a while till senses subside.
Turmoil boils creating a noise inside
I will show you of the other place I know
Over there is a cave that invites us so.


I’m In Love... Again (Primal Poetry Stage 2)

On a good day
It’s everyone I see
(except skinheads)
On a bad day
It’s just one or two,
Who shine.

But there is one species on this planet
That hearing one of its own in distress
Runs towards
Instead of away
(that’s us, by the way)

It’s not just our big brains
Or opposable thumbs
We care for each other
Humans are fucking commies by nature.


Memory Link (primal poetry)

A trumpet has been blown
For unity
For brain work
For love
For peace

The flute has given
The rhythm
The melody
The hope
The joy

For the time of old
Never dies
Our forefathers
Our forethought
Our time to renew

For the colours we see
The sounds
The timing
The prime
All started afar and now and ongoing.


Upbeat (Primal poetry workshop)

The pulse of the rapids
Slapping down the mountain
Always the same
Never the same
The roar of water
Ice clear from the mountain tops
The crash of water on rock
In beats of upbeat
In commotion
Upbeat upbeat
Loud locomotion


Primal beats

Before space, before time,
there is a different heart beat,
without deviation, without pause.

It’s the perfection, before the bang
flung out eternity, and all of infinity
to give to the mind a home.

The purity can never be attained,
no longer instantaneous to the all,
unless you be a binary particle.

My human blood cannot take
the monotony, so the beat speeds,
it slows, becomes silent at times.

My mind wonders, it looks back
on itself, and wonders if it is now
the eyes and ears of the universe.


The Scream Continues

Floating above the darkness
Watching from the highest plane
Tree branches that turn to hands
Crooked fingers digging in
Blood dripping, dragging me under

Fighting, screaming, intertwined
The flames of love and hate burning my skin
The devil I know
Is safer than the one I don't
Our flesh combined, turns to dust

Raw and familiar
Will the pain ever end
The pounding, the shouting
My mind whirls
For Christ sake, just leave me here



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