The stream (all workshops)
Raising ecstasy....
Let me be young again...
in the summer of my life...
in bikinis or without..
in seas wide and deep
and you will feel the rods inside out...
as you will nod
and in ecstasy...
rebound only
if I could turn back the key...
the lock could open easily...
if you were as exotic
too...
new wave poetry
well the same mind coughs so very often...very often
some music flows in some ears
while for else it’s a cause of tears,
As fuzzy clouds convene in the blue sky, Flames of passion burn with bliss nd ecstacy in my inner being nd as crisp chilly nd serene winds assuage the heavy heart of mine, A sentimental sensation of felicity rudderlessly arouses my stoical spirit.
You will visit
the
ball
where everyone's faces
will be covered with masks
and I won't be able to find
you.
My face too will be
underneath the mask
and someone else
will find
me.
After,
on my way to home
I discover the masks,
you're a ghost
I'm a liar.
At home
I take my clothes off.
I'm standing in front of god,
there's a mirror in front of
me,
dead as matter
alive as process
both indestructible.
waking up was an effort
a struggle of the senses
with a reach to my phone
I found it was mid afternoon
I thought what the hell?
next to me was a glass
clouded and half full
like my memory,
I stretched my thoughts
but only flashes and
glimpses came back to me
it had started well,
quiet drinks
bourbon and Cowgirls,
then Father O’Leary’s
with a dash
of Green Ginger wine
Tia Maria was there somewhere
and it all crept up and bit my ass
erasing parts of the night
Some thoughts about the household cat,
an independent cuss is that.
Not like the family dog who'll sit,
or on your lap will try to fit.
The dog obeys the master’s call,
the cat it seems can't hear at all.
The dog will let you pet a bit,
the cat just out of reach will sit.
The dog tries to communicate,
the cat treats you like real estate.
The cat when only in the mood,
allows affectionate interlude.
Sunburst Cherry
White scented blossoms
bloom, Um! So juicy and plump
cherry opal fruits.
Temples Of The Sun
Tiny specks of dew
sparkle a sanctum of light
bursting with colour.
Water Feature
Silver slick water
bubbling up diamond rocks,
cinnamon sun splashed.
Hinomaru ( "circle of the sun" )
Just before sunset
spacial
lows
the seperate
apex
like a soulful fulcrum
under stress
the delicate
music
of this flex
calling
in its voice
of wavelength
the saturation depths
alight
If I was a comfort
in the feilds of snow
the scatter
of that haze
it was buried
drawn fast
beneath
the fury
lost chaste post
to the new age
orders
tucked neat
falling like the
orchid cold
fast of evening
a ghost of
colour
Life of sorrow
Life of everyone’s hate
Slapped away the helping hand
Everybody wishes to be my exterminator
There is no savior
I am my own exterminator
The dying tied up plant cannot grow
Burn the strings
I am now the ashes
frigid water
waves rocking
feeling the rhythm.
moving with the moon, distorting gravity
the oceans echo in my ears
forever crashing, endless heart beat.
the horizon swallowing sunset
swept away by the Pacific's,
icy November waters.
seagulls casting shadows on my skin
angels of death above
fluttering sunlight.
my lungs beckoning,
the salty waters.
this my baptism,
as well as my icy grave
ships and boats just passers by,
myself frozen in time
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