The stream (all workshops)
I just managed to return
from past the grave
they planned to bury,
well perhaps, me
I found twas too lonely
in the forest
even though the cemetery was on the highway...
but too deep
so scary and cold
and left all alone with a hope
someday my spouse may join me,
I returned home
with a spark afresh!
come friends have a drink and join me,
for this life I now do not wish to abandon
my, it’s too miserable out there
how will I alone manage my hair?
While making my way towards the vista
I kept looking at the sky,
I wondered where the time had gone
and I also wondered, "why".
Why'd it pass so quickly?
I still had things to do!
It's sort of like some kind of trick
fate plays on me, and you.
I've found solace in the sunshine
and love dancing in the breeze,
I've no quarrel with the shadows
for they hide me with such ease.
1 John 2:11
But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes
REFLECTIONS OF ANGER
On wings of fire
I fall
into the darkness
like an angel of light
into the abyss pulled
by a darkened soul.
and part of me dies
to this world
and to the next
when I reflect.
the madness it brings.
Escaping boredom,
I take the road to freedom,
and find myself tangled
in a net of thoughts of you,
that lead me to where
I chose to flee from.
You win again.
Grieve not for the one who goes
we all follow the leaders footsteps
and perhaps you may find time to read
my grief poem
which articulates that
man is born to die from day one..
death like a shadow follows one
each one,
its only the shortening and lengthening of the shadows
that makes a difference
but soon enough
ere we know
the candle blows
and the shadow also goes
think of the parted
and say it’s good they had a great day
they brought smiles on faces
of ailing humanity
I was there
in the dirty, rotten
rat infested and mud caked
trenches of Gallipoli
Fighting and wrestling
with the Turks
with shells whizzing over head
not gaining much ground
Losing my leg
coming home to the awkward
stares of strangers on the streets
Having my own battle
in my mind never
leaving the field of battle
Watching from my porch
the swarms of uniform clad young men
marching to the music of battle
with senses of patriotism
flowing through their blood
A few full moons have passed
yet none
shone
on my face.
and of all the flocks that
have flown over in my sky
little if any
of their chirps
filled
my space
As you can see,
on the so *cold long run
only silence rang
or knocked on my place.
*called
I recall climbing pecan trees
up limbs as far as I could go
cooled by a light late autumn breeze
with people standing down below.
Then like a squirrel I would shake
releasing mast into the air
( without a thought my perch might break)
in days of youth and thick brown hair.
Nuts ricocheted off their heads,
those below would dodge and scurry,
but they'd not curse, they'd laugh instead.
Their buckets filled up in a hurry.
A mermaid by the ocean
her accompaniment the tide,
sings to every sailor
a song shared deep inside.
True sea lovers will hear her
as she serenades the moon,
finding a lonely comfort
as she sings her haunting tune.
At times the sea feels angry
raising doubts and causing fear,
but the magic of her melody
falls on every sailors ear;
warning them of danger
from the sea or other boats,
leading them to safety
as she hits her piercing notes.
Comes another hero from the fray,
No tall steed to ride this day.
A shield and sword are neither had,
No metal suit the blows to pad.
This other hero is of course,
Who steels the blade and shoes the horse.
Who shines the armor mirror bright,
Preparing those who are to fight.
The least among victorious bands,
And with defeat in slavery's hands.
A battle lost for shoe not nailed,
How frequently is smithy hailed?
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