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The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

Electrification

Paratonics
Hammer-ons
Pull-offs
Power-chords
Blind fury, as my finger blaze on nickle-wound Ernie Balls
Pandora set to 'Rock Radio'
Sweet Child of Mine
Nickelback
Staind
Bon Jovi
All float through, and erase my memory
Sweat drains from my pores
along with it, the ability to give a fuck about anything
The Fender screams in my place
and my heart lightens
my eyes open
and I see the day in a new light

I MAKE MYSELF NUMB WHEN I NEED TO PUNCH HARDER

You took me to the dreamland as
‘little boy’ skipped like a stone
a thousand of them, a shower of stars
dam busters;
I had a headache as if my skull
had fallen off the bus, grazed her knees
on the concrete with daisies
bamboozling through the cracks of the pavement –
I leapt over them
because I read too much A. A. Milne in my childhood.

Holding Back

Hold back the moon from earth
and soon the sky will fall
all will be dark and cold
upon the winds of change

The tides will flood the land
That once a world did love
No more to breathe the air

release the sun it too has died
A brief yet painful solemn death

Workshop: 

Beyond The Beyond

There is no life hereafter…
But your belief
May remain yours,
Lest I prove myself wrong
And
Meet you in galaxies beyond...........
The beyond

And

You happen to recognize,
This young bard so small,
In a speck of light glistened by sunlight
Towards the end of eternity and beyond
Let us live in hope

And

Be not forlorn,
As human life exists
Only in the folds of time
since gone is gone.
This is my belief,
Let me be that isolated one,
A lonely star

And

LORNA

!
LORNA

You glide between the coral heads
Then slowly traverse oyster beds.
Keep to the dappled light, for dark
Might hide a twelve-foot Mako shark.

A flick of flipper scares away
Inquisitive huge Manta Ray,
Who leaves with such majestic flight
His shadow blocks the warm sun's light.

Though none can see, I know you smile
At clouds of Clown fish, colours wild,
This warm, exciting, fish-filled sea
A wonderland for you, not me.

Workshop: 

Vacantality

Hollow are my vacant, sullen eyes
the dreams I once possessed faded away,
my mind has lost it's train of thought completely
while the ache within my heart grows everyday.

How sad it is that friendship's lost it's luster
and stark reality can slap you in your face,
I try to bend but find my body breaking
hindering my efforts to keep pace.

I falter from my footing and my balance
my buddy "pain" has taken quite a toll,
age has help define my limitations
and that sour taste is etched upon my soul.

WINTER'S SONG

Just beyond the end of autumn
I hear the winter's call
and he arrives to slay the leaves
which, stubborn, clung through fall.

The land once green and full of life
has now grown cold and sere
and harvest's colors once so rife
no longer are seen here.

As white and silver coat descends
to cover silent land
the air once cool, turns frigid, clear
and quietens all at hand.

Workshop: 

D I S H E V E L L M E N T S O F H O A R D E R

by rail divide me
plump in sections
that cool the passion
of taste
You succulent of poison
borne like hawkes
the prince theives
sabre

love is wicked
sear my flesh
where you shall
take leave your sworn
blood tears

calf skin gloves
silk serpent moult
on tenderling touch

this river black
wants you back
beneath the heady
sphere where
fortune tells
its ways

let me worry the
dark deed that grows
within

 

A Terza Rima

I met/ a man/ who just/ the o/ther day
declared/ he wrote/ his po/etry/ for me.
“But we/ have on/ly met…”/ I tried/ to say.

He si/lenced me/ and said/ he did/ agree,
yet still/ each poem/ he writes/ is sure/ly mine.
I asked/ him to/ explain/ that I/ might see.

Workshop: 

I can not out run ghost living in empty space

Ghost which haunt night and day recurring every day

Dancing dreams of misdeeds live inside tortured me

Wondering when will I be let free finding peace

Eternal burning flame that won’t be ever quenched

Workshop: 

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