The stream (all workshops)
facade foretold
by bodin' eye
glimpsed looking
glass the depthful guise
the pressure twixt
that held us fast
on a hairline crack
that shatters fast
the falls
glimmering
ice
shower
in shiver steaming
spout spitting
like wounds
from an old house
shaking
in the turbulent
flaw
of wind seeker
soul weeper winds
and in the deep
pressed
a hand against
my heart
and started time
in reverse
The best teachers are those that show you where to look
but don't tell you what to see.
The best students are those who don't look at your finger
when you point at the moon.
What kind of teacher I would be
would not show the moon too soon
and not allow my finger to linger
or clench into a fist of despair
to swing futilely at empty air
where I think your head should be
it having already outpaced me,
so now we are both free.
Reflections On A Song By
Simon and Garfunkel
Passion wanes like slack, neap tide
upon this island form
with little that can be denied
by distant, offshore storm
the weathered rock that is my bone
aches constantly within
a pain so deep that faith alone
will never heal its sin
Happily chirping
And flying about
I saw you
Basking in sunlight
Agile
Singing your own song
Picking up bread crumbs
Sitting unaware
I saw you
Getting caught
Caged
Taken away
Inside a golden cage
Hung in a garden
I saw you
Asked to sing
Listless
Sitting in a corner
Being fed
Fresh nuts and water
I saw you
Looking through the bars
Sad
Longing to get out
winsome toy
the wound mechanics
of taut swirl
plaster sadness
the watercolor sheen
of magi works
darkness is the visage
pulled by horses of speed
canvasses of pleasure
chrome
glass
images through
sorcery
while rain drizzles
in churned mud
strays nuzzle
for the wicked hunger
of the lost
treasures
of souls
gleaned
from the garish
of seers
Through the night, so ebony black
he moved with grace and calm
With confidence went, not looking back
moaning a mournful psalm
No one saw him passing by
just heard his voice so lonesome
They said; “Someone is to die”
Not being sure, what from
But 'Death' walks close, mark my word
I've heard that sound before
Scariest sound you've ever heard
I don't want to hear no more!
I love the bubbles of her smile.
They tickle my heart and make me laugh.
Not just a giggle but a real howl
that makes me shake all over.
Then I walk away and I
hear that same laughter behind me.
I think they call it infectious.
You stand right before me
in admiration
of self emulated beauty
your giggle is spontaneous
but genuine
then you break down
into a seeming reunion
now you dance
after a refreshing bath
let your towel fall
without a trace of wrath
then you laugh,
the world may hear
as you are seemingly calling
for your loved dear
finally through life’s magnetic trance
you wander
and
mindlessly ballet dance
I sit here as the music of the Isles
touches my soul
There racing as the silent tide
toward the shore are my feelings
Thoughts of things gone by
visions of things to come
Where are those voices
when I need them so
A comfort in knowing
That you and I loved them
Come sit a while, with me here
watch with me because I care.
The gentle flow of our thoughts
As they intertwine
Whisper of love and our before times
As they echo in our minds.
Within the walls of a fortress,
a child wept bitter tears.
Unbearable was the loneliness,
haunting him over the years.
He saw love blooming around him
from the union of lovers' hearts
and the old desire returned to him,
whispering the beauty of his past
"I want to be free!" he screamed
but the walls of distrusts mocked him.
Cowardice reigned supreme
denying him, a child so weak
Kneeling on the floor, he faced the heavens,
pleading for a miracle to set him free
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