The stream (all workshops)
There was a young man from Mauritius
Who found eating pussies nutritious
Roasted boiled or fried
It cannot be denied
That the meat was sublimely delicious
May the darkness accept the light
and shadows cringe no more
may distance be surpassed and unsurpassed
by its own beauty breaking through
my heart to yours,
your heart entwining mine;
may we touch the embraceable
with its untouchable mystery
may we speak the language
of love in its ten thousand intonations,
may we use our time wisely
to join forces with the light no clever darkness
can escape,
may we always be children
in wonder of it all
dancing in the flame,
A middle aged man worked in the market
Doing a bob-a-job to make a living
He carried baskets of banana and beans
And collected stipends for body and soul
With wheel barrow, he rolled in the goods
From the road to the sellers’ stalls inside
In and out he ran to catch up with the day
While dirt covered him from head to toe
When evening came he packed his kit
And picked up his tattered umbrella
With pockets full of small bills and coins
He set his steps to meet his wife at home
I felt something lingering near
terrifying and unforgiving
waiting somewhere.
The noise of living broke
into a silence, fading pale
and I fell into dreaming.
I dreamed of rivers flowing crimson red
fields of wheat burning black
flames ripping through raging skies
I saw angels with dark wings spread
singing unholy litanies
souls lost to Heaven on their knees
God was dead…
The world needs more
Positive poets and friends
like you and many
We all are just passersby
here today,
Tomorrow where will we be?
Who that can ever say
I am your friend
I say for just
Today…
This Workshop is a joy to employ
So don't be coy, consider your ploy
To profit from rhyme experience
Getting fatter has never been better
Filled with inner poetic meter
Bulging rhyme skills, bloating knowledge
The 2011 Oktoberfest Carolina Princess, happy
My pageant baby, excited, given a penny
She added to her calculate piggy's many
Just as, contented poets, delighted
Write great poetry, enlighten
By leaders more than excited
My window is the world.
A patch of light illumines
the Autumn leaf,
shimmers its veins,
its seminal understanding
of life in its transitional story,
I had two raspberry eyes and ten mulberry
fingers as a child,
I grew until I weighed myself down;
I picked flowers.
I have composed countless poems
As you all know
Since I have no fixed mind ,
nor fixture of mind,
I am a unique entity...
No two poems of mine are alike,
as I believe in variety
Loved Style,
All my while .
I stand in no row or queue
of recognition ,
as I know twill never come,
when I am alive .
But then it will be too late
Posthumously
Which they will.
Dance in the arms of the devil tonight
You’re lost in the shadows, kept out of sight
You followed him through the back door
Where I found you, looking for more
You sat on the cold concrete
You let his hands search and creep
You lay in his arms, he sings
“You could be everything…”
And oh, does god have a sound?
Like a child laughing loud,
Or the birds singing this morning
But no; everything means ‘everything’
And you wake up alone, discarded as nothing
For those who have read Çaço, Man of the Morning Star this poem is easily understood. For those who have not, it stands alone. One need not know the story to read this poem.
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