The stream (all workshops)
sorcerer hue
pallor and twinge
unfurl this shroud
cold canopy
personage
test press a still
lobby
a passage this
play
silences of deliverance
a Sterling light
forever flesh
marbled in quiet
predatory camo
slinking slowly
against taught shadow
torso..
A world of information,
created by technology,
holding tons of data,
both shared and kept in privacy
Some will benefit us
some will corrupt the mind
some may provoke us
some will change our lives
Here a variety of games
can be easily chosen
to chase away boredom
but too much time spent
can cause addiction
Here friendship blooms
between strangers,
defying the great distance
as they reach out
to each other
Friends come and go
I missed you all… these long days…
summers came and went away…
where on earth?
in which corner do you stay…
never from this site go away…
tis for those who love the art…
poetry is simply just a part …
you interact with folks all along …
some scribble...
as if you to them belong….
long gone into the summers of life…
the evening is just a passing romance…
they come and go…
that’s all I know …
Some love …
a miniscule love to blow…
She'll walk in treating yesterday
as if 'twas yet to come,
and the past is due to something she just said;
then, turn around and giggle
for she knows what happens next,
so forgetting 'bout the future's best, instead.
In your eyes she'll spy a topic
that no-one else has seen,
as it happens it's profound and so obscure;
she'll then question how it was we came
to merely sit around,
and speak of things she barely can endure.
The final country
What comes to soothe in greater age?
A yielding to a thing once feared,
Closer to the final page
The story fading, ending neared
Another book is lent more credence
Something in the void is filled
Trumpets trilled to greater glory
For a place where pain is killed
Heaven then, a harbor for the aged
Gone now, life's trials and trouble borne
When does the hand let go the tiller
And drift toward that safer shore?
Poetry is dreams set free
to flow through pen and land on page
e're now left pure white just for me;
A way to fill an empty stage.
It lets me tell of sights unseen
by others in a different place
where there's little trace of green
or cool woods of gentle grace.
These words can even go through time
if they're put together right.
With a bit of thoughtful rhyme
perhaps they'll last at least one night.
Obamerica
Greenish-grey rain falls with merciless zeal
on cracked tar and concrete, and rust-colored steel
mouldy-grey pigeons now fly to and fro
releasing their bowels on the vermin below
winos and addicts lay sprawled on the ground
some vainly seeking what others have found
half-naked children converge in the street
rummaging dumpsters for something to eat
It is back with a vengeance,
chasing away the cold wind,
The heat testing our patience
from the morn' till the evening
A season filled with frustration,
squeezing the last drop of sweat...
Mortals succumb to emotions,
tempers flared as hearts bled
Brazen fingers stripped Angsana
baring her limbs in lust
bruising too the fledgling birds
nestled in her cozy lush
I sought love gurgling as a child.
Safe in arms, my mother’s smile
Memory faded as years passed,
I sought love, the die was cast
Friend’s love did see me through.
Each day carrying out tasks anew.
These bonded as my mother so,
In my heart and mind they did grow
I kept seeking things in a world so new,
A kindred Spirit into my life flew.
Yet a fleeting visit was all I had,
They left me but I didn’t feel sad.
When I walk this lane,
I feel the roughness of this path.
When I run on the track,
I feel the difficulty of my speed.
When I look at you,
I feel I can do much better.
When I sit all alone,
I feel I have something to do.
When I sleep in the corner,
I feel I should get up.
When I stand by my decisions,
I feel I am what I am.
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