The stream (all workshops)
the bus came to a merry standstill. the merry was inside us;
young and vibrant schoolboys on our way back home.
the bus came to a startling halt inside me
as i look for our house in the, now unfamiliar surroundings.
standing on our land was the remnants of a house,
the remnants of a life... of our dreams
i felt unmerry and dry... older than minutes before.
i was looking for the door I used to run through as a little boy.
Oh the rich!
The message here is loud and clear
Donate.... share and love all
there are many like us
who look after you
lend a heart and soul
achieve your desired goal
but on money slightly loosen your hold
Behold there are many here
who at minus 30 die of cold
their hands do hold
poor they are not by destiny
but many be owing to lack of opportunity
Share as much as you may
I have only poetic words to say
love em you may....
have a nicer meal today!
Sicut est [so it is]
Sometimes I think I've lived too long
to see them all gone
the ones I held to my heart.
I linger alone in this empty space
broken in body and soul.
Love feeds and grows on love.
and when there is no one left to care
the loneliness and longing will tear
your heart asunder...
Life baby
conjecture
you send me out for bread
the curtians ajar
the ghosts gone to bed
War dog slipping on the
broken boots
torn page from the bible
half consumed
forbidden fruit
Apple Jacks and
a quart of booze
addictions a drag
say it helps us snooze
Bump goes the night
things alive in the
skin of dreams
like a drum beat
between these sheets
in the whisper of
a night so sleek
so quiet and serene
In the old games,
the games that wealthy landowners
played in the woods
our kind was run to ground.
We were chased,
the terrified and cornered
until we had nowhere left to run,
even the trees provided no safety,
and the houses of worship
no refuge.
And you might think
that I've given up.
You might even think
that I've left you in the cold,
and maybe you'd say
that "sensible people"
and their sensible solutions
have won the day.
Is there anyone out there?
Can you hear my cries?
Silent as they may seem,
they are loud on the inside.
Beating like a drum,
pounding against my brain.
Choices I've made, the good and the bad,
mine to live with, mine to regret.
Can anyone hear me?
My stupidity is breaking me down.
Can anyone see me?
I'm my own worst enemy.
When tears have filled and dried the bluest eyes
and warnings cast a shadow made of stone
no sun nor moon can peel away disguise
that leaves me standing in this crowd alone.
Whose hands are these which dare to cross that line,
you know the line, between the pure and slaves
where man is boy and boy does long for fine
as memories become the blackened caves?
write me down on a white paper
the future I never dream of
just put me down in your books
tell me about the old
the past I know about
walk me out to be the best
the bread is soft when being baked
don't plead guilty of the past you have done
put my name in the best books of history
Rivulets conjunction
Your eyes will pierce my heart
then how will we see
so I will read your poetry
how lovely tis
your eyes are bliss
I am a cynosure of many eyes
but mine are not like this...
you lady are
a BLISS
it prompts an awe-inspiring contemplation -
a memory I have lived with all my way
throughout this life, this single incarnation
and who I was back then unchanged today
above the ground with gentle smooth floatation
I’m headed somewhere, making not a sound
a nebulous affect of glum negation
not wanting to not what? I’ve never found
there’s someone with me, someone that I know
forgetting now, today, just who it was
we seemed to be departing rosy glow
to places dull and full of squalid flaws
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