The stream (all workshops)
What a whimsical world
in which we both are gifted
a chance to reside
skin side by side.
I like a liquid love
and the feeling of
your body on mine
more than I can describe
or quickly nimbly imbibe.
Yet despite my mellow pacing please
allow my tongue curled and tied
to attempt a linguistic reeling
of haughty design
and frisky rhythms
inside your thighs.
We gaze into soft painted
and slow moving whispy skies
with bellowed brains
and deepening lung flung
bronchial sighs.
postulaten
the limb drips with its tangles of ice
the light coughs through the souls vein
gleaming softly
damp as cataracts
in this rain kiss
the deaths shall wait
winters crepe
a pale vestige
this wing black eve
where angels weep
with mornings sight
will rise
...
the greatest of stories that ever was told
begins with a chapter that truly beguiles
with frankincense, myrrh and pure eastern gold
three master magi had journeyed for miles
and shepherds espied a magnificent sight
as jewels on the canopy soaring above
danced and imbued it in glorious light
exulting in true unconditional love
a heavenly choir sang out through the evening
an air of delight in harmonious joy
a new star was born, its radiance streaming
to shine on and welcome a new baby boy
I worked in the public and the private
To facilitate both at air and sea
For the economy to make her gains
Working for the ungrateful baldhead chiefs
Lethargic consequences trailed their greed
Out of work, aptitude in confinement
I’m hungry, the belly needs a refill
Here it's December twenty first
as I roll, drowsy, out of bed
grab a Coke to quinch night thirst
caffiene clears cobwebs from my head
Just the I hear a roll like thunder
as a roiling front approaches
blowing raked leaf piles asunder
they scurry 'cross the yard like roaches
The storm comes and then it goes
nothing much to speak about
so I put on my work clothes
open the door and head on out
O K - so its Christmas - (A weary Hooray)
And I'm trying to write some verse for Christmas day.
I made a good start , and then fell on my ass,
When my muse upped and left me. HOW COULD SHE!! HOW CRASS!!
She said she got no thanks for all that she'd done;
I told her to get her tanks offa my lawn!
I laughed till I cried at her hectoring tone,
But miss her remarks now I'm left on my own.
In the “Cathedral of the Pines”
dark gives way to light
The smell of breezes fresh
fan away the night
As the light is changing shades
life begins to wake
Movement, little twitches
from the shadow snakes
Murmurs of good morning
the voices of the wood
Trickles of the stream
whisper; things are good
Life giving “Sol” has risen
touching all in turn
The father of creation
master of slow burn
Everyone's searching for that magical star
As the world is waiting for that eve to come..
Others keep guessing where the three kings are..
The Giver of Light is just yet seen by some.
As the world is waiting for that eve to come..
Songs of the children fills up all the streets..
The Giver of Light is just yet seen by some.
On that eve,it will be all for those who fits.
Namby pamby attitude
I'll be told I'm rude
pandering to criminals need
praising him for his greed
payout by insurance company
because he got hurt doing robbery
something is seriously wrong
victim lashed by judge's tongue
I'll be told I'm being radical
bring in someone practical
I have become
as spagyric art
A will-o-wisp of the pen
as each ink drop falls,
it reflects its alchemy
in my eyes,
like drawing fraternal twins
in a jade sky
I see a measure
of my sadness,
and my joy
presented as
balanced scales
perfectly level
they scatter apart
against a northern wind
tiger blue dragonflies
possess my mind
and the walls sweat
green moss
symphonic trumpets
herald the flickering
lifted and scorched
I separate to join,
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