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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.

The Tunnel (primal poetry phase 2)

The drum, the only drum
Slow relaxation
Irregular breathing
Regular breathing
Slow breathing
Shallow breathing
I am barely alert
Above dreams
I am in a tunnel
I become the tunnel
Shifting sided to side
Up and down
Images appear
Some are held for moments
Some come and go as a dream
Feel suspended
Then not suspended
Focus
Is there something to see?
I am in a tunnel
The tunnel is me
Feel the movement
That is all
That is the focus
The movement

Workshop: 

Below Drums (primal poetry)

Passing through the drums I fall,
And a challenge came to be
Yet before I disappeared,
In wait he appeared.
Charging me I struck
With one blow
Knocking him down
But arising he came at me again
Yet with more and
They were adorned with feather dressings
And I spat in his face,
Then once again he went down
In all his feathered glory.

It was them and us to crown a king
So, I bowed to a new king
On his thrown of carved wood
With the universe of words understood

Workshop: 

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...

Workshop: 

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.

Workshop: 

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
Genetically
Humans are fucking commies by nature.

Workshop: 

Primal Poetry Phase 2 UPDATE

Tunneling through
the smell of earth
the worm I am.
Others move next to me
and break into my furrow
only a little though
I am moving too fast to
stop for them
alone in my narrow row
water seeping in
it’s cold
I move faster now
with no one in my way
I stay moving
through the smell
no hunger here only fear
I need help. No, I don’t
onward to that sound
breaking through the ground
rising up above
There is a light in gold
it’s warm
I found my home

Workshop: 

Rhythm Of the Drum Prima Poetry

rhythm of the drum
darkness rise
tainted blue skies
behind dark trees...

traveling through the cosmos
passed ocean surface
to other side of the mountain...

around and around beat goes
spinning above the drum
like wind
spiraling in the air

across blue ocean
land of no man
dead tree branches
makeshift cot for resting...

in darkness of night
hazy blue skies
pulled high
into the cosmos
spiraling among constellations...

Workshop: 

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.

Workshop: 

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
Upbeat
In commotion
Upbeat upbeat
Loud locomotion

Workshop: 

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.

Workshop: 

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