The stream (all workshops)
The raw dripping pool
creeping across the mouth
delicious!
drip drip dribble dribble
No sanguine snack this-
more a Homo-blackpudding
bursting bloody bastes
The luminous ring dances
lunar lines across the
Green Man's playground
hiding wet magenta ribbons
drop! drop! splatter splash!
And the scent is wafting
And the hirsute pursuer
pines for the
metallic tang
And he finds a lone lovely
languishing in the green baize
clearing
Shook me a branch on the Lullaby Tree
sweet melodic air wafted by me slowly
my eyes started to close unwittingly
soft mystery of the Lullaby Tree
Hypnotised by the whisper of the Lullaby Tree
magical dreamland drifted into me
flying on clouds of heavenly reverie
the wistful sound of the Lullaby Tree
Wanted to stay forever under the Lullaby Tree
peace and serenity enveloping me
but breeze brought me back to reality
precious time spent under the Lullaby Tree
She dyed her hair
black as her Mother's lungs,
hoping to attract the beast
to someone deserving.
She went out to the porch,
the smoking lounge
kicked herself for lighting up
and noticed the grasshopper's struggle.
Don't fit me in your form
For i'm far from the norm
Don't try to contain
All that's in my brain
This normality,
makes us insane
In a mad world,
only the mad are sane
TRUE REFLECTIONS
as i wander farther from myself
into dissolution
bleeding edges of annihilation
I hold to what is left
of me
in memory and recollection
where I see
my lasting and true
reflection
Whispered endearments
tickling my ears
every breath
drawing me near
Featherlike fingers
up and down my arms
each movement charms
Kisses so soft
sailing aloft
on clouds of reverie
Lustfilled eyes
hypnotise
Stop being a tease
take me now, please
A deep hurt!
at times my heart weeps,
though rarely
when I see machinations
manifested in crooked minds,
seeking the fish from under the Dead Sea
when all are asleep,
wantonly
and
in pity seek a false admiration
to reach out for empathy,
callous folks still exist
I hate to say
but still
stalwart ice beneath our bold steps
the treachery of slopes
and the needles in our shins
the calves the wrists
we dream of natures kiss
and forelock youth
beneath a blue
we linger here behind the view
our dark wide screen
of vision care
Our pharmacy of meds
in tote We ratttle in
our winter coats
And for a day respite is
near The puffer steers
away and clear
That hissing mask
that holds us dear
like hostages so close
and near
IT’S NOT ABOUT UMBRELLA TREES
I feel the August heat still
rising from the tarred city street
sitting hands on knees
under three umbrella trees
and the smell of olive oil
garlic and sweet basil looking for me
from the kitchen window
just behind.
Time nurtures the heart
in memory
and the ghosts I see
still watch over me
hands on knees
under the shade
of umbrella trees
three..
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