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The stream (all workshops)

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



The evening is now growing old
a bit like, or so I'm told
I sit here way too tired to sleep
and watch the long hand slowly creep

My mind wanders to places far
where my new writing friends are
all the way around the world
where Aussie flag is kept unfurled

So much talent in so many places
spread among so many faces
some are gals and some are guys
compared to me they're mostly wise

I'm Lost

Lost in a world
That I don’t know
That I just don’t understand
Everyone is trying
To be someone
Someone they are not
Success is judged
By how much we have
As a people
As a nation
Children going hungry
To help support tax cuts
For people who don’t need them
Everyone cries
They are not responsible to help
The world is full of Cains
And no one seems Able
And the king of nothing
Writes another poem
Because he doesn’t know
What else to do

God’s Creativity!

God’s Creativity!

To my mind
What a God
If there is one,
Has created
Is the Human Mind
That’s His personal,
Gifted unique,
6.50 billions
Working simultaneously
Conveying his order
And wish.


On the coldest day of a past year
( the low was ten degrees F or near )
in quiet hollow of mixed hardwood trees
I feel like I'm in a deep freeze

Deer hunting's the excuse I use
to enter a forest with frozen views
and test myself against the cold
I still do this, though growing old

It rained last night before this front
brought all the cold one man could want
but now at dawn it's calm and clear
I hear frost jacking the ground near

Code Blue

too close to the forest to see the trees
to cross the I's and dot the T's
better forget the edit
and call the medic

prep and get him in a gown
going to have to remove a noun
and maybe put in a verb
if it fails, it's out to the curb

It's a dire situation
can't find any punctuation
the spelling and bad grammar
throw this writer in the slammer

the right diagnose is slim
the prognoses is grim
FLAT LINE OOPS! I hit delete
OH! well, nurse, let's eat

A long string of horseshit poems

when you're just not
inspired that much
or just writing
out of obligation
one tends to just
produce junk
worthless crap

like the poem before
and the one before that

But hell, who's perpetually
hooked into the muse
or always obsessed
with perfection
and finely tuned in

Writing these things they call poems
is just an outlet
for the flow of substandard
that makes up
almost all of my
inventive thinking

less is more

It got me thinking
make more out of less

like a good omelet
eggs, bacon, cheese
thats all

I bought a cheesecake
the other day
and I have eaten
most of it
no fruit compote
or sauce at all
it's delicious

then there's
my favorite sport
a simple game
offensive plan
put the puck in their net
defenseive plan
keep the puck out
of our net

Reflections II...

I see the light
Do you now?
Yes, I really do

I quake in fright...
You have a fearless brow
No one would think that's you

I see my faults too clearly
Blind men shuffle slowly
I've run away from pain

You've paid a price most dearly
I am the lowest of the lowly
You had nothing you could gain

Pictures don't do justice to my blackened soul
You look just fine to me
Peer deeper, deeper yet



I came to make my peace
And set foot upon his sands
Under the banner of trust
He deceived with blood on his hands

I came to give him a chance
And knocked upon his gate
The alliance was short lived
His arrogance was his final mistake

Discriminate, eliminate, annihilate
Intimidate, exterminate, eradicate

Intimidate, exterminate, eradicate
Discriminate, eliminate, annihilate

73rd street

73rd street

rasping cough explodes
from cold, $2.00 room.

Leon peers through
filth-clouded glass, across
snow winter-scape at sparkling,
snow covered everything--
fretful city sleeps.


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