The stream (all workshops)
I am angry
Not just pissed, but disappointed too
No longer exploitable
No longer young
Awareness has overtaken
Naivety of youth
Mind works faster now
Surer now
As body slows down
Lied to
Backstabbed
Crossed
Intentionally
By my government
That does so with impunity
No one to blame
In liars hall of shame
but them all
Running my Mother into the ground
Stealing Her resources for wars
Unfought
Thinking they will never be caught
Pangs of Wilderness!
I stray into the midst of a misty night,
Awaiting the storm of life
That ends like a tsunami,
Into the pangs of the wilderness
My fellow beings,
Alight from the dreamy day journey
Say fare the well to me,
As I take off
To the end of eternity
The wilderness now beckons’ me,
Come where the need is,
To stay now down there
As you fail thy self
Powered by the blackened sun
the UFO race long since began,
Secret base given numbers
accusations of unwarranted influnence.
A dark cloak of misspent power
exists, persists, evolves and resists,
This flight of fancy ignites my morbid
curiosity at terminal velocity.
A national security agency dwelling high
above the powers that be, first contact
not know plausible deniability extended
when the truth not know by the elected.
She sits quietly as
we wait at her door
pensive, languishing
without anticipation
of more
resignation
is related
without the resentment,
a gentle acknowledgement -
baptismal rain for the repentant
she alights on the mind
bringing quietude to the soul,
acceptance is her acquaintance -
who's only just
become known.
9 November, '10
Dark
I penetrate your eyes, searching
The dark corners of your mind
The ones you try too hard to disguise
I contemplate your face, staring
At the dark spaces deep within
The ones you try so hard to replace
Dancing in Hell, in the blackest dark
Gyrating to cause a flaming spark
Dancing with the Devil, in the darkest black
There's no light, to find your way back
I infiltrate your eyes, hunting
Those dark places in your head
The ones you try too hard to hide
A mile walk through muggy July woods
standing dead timber draws nearer
as we reach the marshy shore
of our flooded destination
We wade wearing tennis shoes and jeans
into water whose coolness is welcome
and whose familiar depths are known
One single voice cries in the night
Bless me Father for I have sinned
I’ve traded my soul
For one night of lust
Another answers
To whom do you pray
To save what is now mine
Amid the writhing creatures chants
The vile stench of the dead and dying
Permeates her nostrils
As gasps for air are heard
To what end have I come
All for the sake of wanting
Was it worth
This!
Incantations to the Dark One
Rise as I fall
Deeper and deeper
Full of dreams
becoming real,
her life reveals itself
in tiny gleaming wonders
sparkling jewel-like
from our talks,
for when doubt rises
from painful awareness
of adulthood new-acquired
I am whom she seeks
to find the answers
that she thinks
she needs,
and when she talks
I listen,
astonished at this woman
my child has become,
grateful she still asks
questions she already
has answers for,
and proud she still asks me.
Religiosity of Religion
This is neither
A poem nor is it prose
But a combination
I suppose
Let’s see how it goes.
The oldest religion was
Lord’s Krishna’s
Where he had specified
That he was Time
The sun was God
So Time is God.
Also Lord Rama gave
A sample of equality and love
To ones family
Obeisance to the elderly
Justice in reality
Even to ones very own family
.
shall I write of trees?
gorgeous, as foreground or backdrop
to visions of life
fueling imagination
and heartfire
or write of the sea?
drowning one in depth
of emotion and tears
hoping to add one more drop
to its enormity
or shall I write of the sky?
whew! the view!
endless endless endlessly
to leave you draining
into a puddle of
discombobulation
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