workshop
Confession
spawned from lustful fornication
born without a name
reared by those unfit to coach
the playing of life’s game
absorbing knowledge like a sponge
daring to be strange
yet all the while still wishing
I had the will to change
Must children born
in the dark of night
wake up to see the morning?
Why should they live
persistent in the mind,
why should they feed on thoughts
and grow great wings
to fly like bats beneath the sky?
Why must they haunt
my waking dreams,
these fey unholy children?
Why do they call me by my name,
why do they sing my song?
Their gloating is a symphony
of heartlessness
and humour,
their toothless grins,
and gaping eyes,
their distant mien,
their slimy little tongues
Still Searching
The Raven sought his soul from on high
Round and round seeking he tried
Then something came into view
A glistening so bright as a drop of dew
There he descended in great haste
I shall find a treasure no time to waste
He screamed to his own imagined way
Shedding air his wings sang that day
His shadow grew upon the Earth
As he stalled in flight to seek it's birth
There now a fluttering brilliance grew
Still guided him into the light he knew
I caught her eyes,
She caught my eyes.
Who is to be blamed then?
Who could denounce to embrace beauty,
affirm its importance and learn its ways?
Who could in his right senses,
discard its thoughts, forget its impart and tarnish its image?
I maintain to sustain its essence in my life, with diligent effort to pass it on to posterity...twg
dreams come in dry cold winds
announcing their thoughts
through the wires of song
and on the dead leaf lawns
the shelter limits dance
like rain on dark pools trance
stirring in dreams
a murmur to a cry
break through partitions
shove aside the shy
and the thistle
shadowment
sticks
to to gait of pride
unlocking textures
and hungers
thick thin and wide
Debunking
monster in the pond
oh!...no...just toes of a cloud
dipping shadows
....
Intrusion
family afar
cordial constraints, the keepsake
a box of silence
....
A Mixed Message
"slippery when wet"
a warning, and a welcome
fucking on the floor
....
The Garden
trellis hugging vine
embracing geometrics
fondling nature ROCKS!
....
A Loofah
men are rough and coarse
smooth with kittens and kids, cute
rubs the right way
....
Hi Ian …you call me bro or bard …tis okay
send me my fare to London
I will come to meet a lovely one like you
and
borrow a million pounds or two
Oh your rich all know
maybe that's why your poetry does flow
wow you know
as Sadie also says so
sometimes
you just gotta deal.
your cards have been dealt.
now play with them.
take your shitty hand and see how it matches up
and it's okay to feel like less.
it's okay to want more.
just know that you're the only one
who can take it.
Shit Carothers we are only brothers
Do I have to wipe your stinking ass?
Come on now let go of Mothers plea
I’ll tell you straight what’s wrong with me
I am so sick of your spoilt stupid face
The way you behave is a bloody disgrace
I have spent many wasted years with you
Trying to make it so that you pull through
Come you donkey dropping let me go
I have my own life to lead you know
What of the family ties we have made
They are false and have destroyed my days.
Gust gushed through windows with no glasses
Rumbling sky signaled swift changes
Blank pages rustle in mid classes
Rain and storm arrange their exchanges
Literary tyros in despair
By the absence of their teacher
Classroom blocks in bad shape, to repair
Yet, we sing about getting richer
Bare blackboards portray our state of mind
Banged empty heads will have nothing to give
We watch the clock tick on, as hours wind
Bracing unread volumes with a heave
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