The stream (all workshops)
I know that Im not,
the love that you want.
The butterffly effects,
a image that haunts.
The one that you think of,
even when you are not.
The love you truly deserve,
that can not be bought.
I just know these things,
are on their way to you.
Cause karma can be a bitch,
but its got your back too!!
I know you will say,
I dont want or even need.
Its nothing to be ashamed of,
and goes perfect with weed.
In life, I thought I had everything,
The answers of the heart were lost;
I deified the women of my dreams,
But Christ had paid the ultimate cost.
Not by bread alone,
Shall I live a life again…
I manipulated other as well as myself,
The child of a King behaved so immorally;
Putting the fear of God second to all else,
I started to talk of Him without any loyalty.
Not by bread alone,
Shall I speak of life within…
* politicians use the front door o
what for , asterisk
score
tore!
toe!
I did not mean to think of you
after all these quiet days,
yet when embraced
by loneliness
I could not help
but ask you why
the door stays shut,
the curtains drawn
like nightfall's shades
and your picture still hangs up
on my wall.
It was different today
I could feel the starlight on my skin
I had been burnt by the sun
Yet overcame the pain
I wandered so.
The daily drag of my feet
The dust of ages gone by
Clung to me like wet sackcloth
Noises beat upon my ears
I longed for peace
"There you are" I seemed to cry
Tears fled from my aching eyes
Dropping into an abyss of grief
Then there were no more
I had survived
Soaring summit's
highest grace
fills the soul stretched thin
by old winter's dying moan,
revealing the embrace
of coming spring
in sunshine scatterings from
drifts of pale crusted snow.
Surging
warmth's new enfolding
spreads low along quiet
stands of sleeping trees
still caught between
the frozen edge of Earth's
slow revolution
and nearing summer sun
concealed by cold horizon.
A hairy worm found a place to halt,
Smashing it would be my fault,
Thinking so I left it to rest,
Smiling to myself saying ‘interesting guest’
With days passing found forming something around it,
On closer look it was cocoon oval and hard a bit,
Within few more days it broke out,
There it was a beautiful butterfly no doubt.
Syllables and sounds
forming
What our heartbeats say with every
thump
Relieving the vibrations of our
throat
Echoes through their
eardrum
Resonates in the
sternum
Reciprocates
and procreates
With the same desperate
Vowels and
consonants
smooth articulate voice
quiet like a glade signal
the forest is listening
each drop waiting
humid tension
shadows like the edge
of an iris
at the birth of night
birdsong and insects
stilled
a moment held
like a white wing stretched
poised and held
hypnotic
dose
distraction
spines swaying through
the trails
the light diffused
like vegetations smell
tobacco in its strap
the soil soaked into
pores laces
pockets nails
Each night,
I miss your mint,
in mornings, like my coffee,
and in between
we ride on our breaths,
play, wind and unwind.
I wake up
on a crumpled sheet,
caress to find it moist,
pillows strewn hither thither,
as too is the girdle
sprawled upside down.
My eyes veiled in pink,
lips sore,
nails blunt,
hair disheveled,
and my skin
wearing goose bumps.
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