The stream (all workshops)
well ya'll/you’ll be enticed
what ever you may say
i shall entice you one day
the charm of a woman
none can resist
no matter how much
one does persist.
I will entice you one day,
if it is not today,
at least
some other day
with all the experience
behind my years
i know by now
only a girl can do
without any fear,
no matter what her intentions be
her lover that can never see
Freedom and liberty,
so often a catchphrase
sacrificing sanity
at the end of a smoking gun.
They're not concepts of faith or belief
they are complex ideas with no absolutes
that require thought, sacrifice, and grief
and need to weigh loss with answers.
We live together for better or worse
and freedom to kill is often the first
liberty lost.
So we consider what it means
when we lose the right to cause harm or blame
and gain the good of mutual nurture
guiding us to a better future.
static distance
collapses into
a front seat smile
along the road
somewhere
past even caring
a reconnection
lost to time
recalled in a song
by someone unknown
yet, somehow he knows
my story
the whole sorry story.
me
and lost love
sung in 12-bars of ironic blues
In the heart of life
we grow
sometimes friends
sometimes foes
to build and construct
or even to destruct
but
we all end
wretched and
worthless
six
feet
under
under a grave stone
desiree
the storm has torn loose a shutter
and let the blind loot of night in
We feel it quiet against the wall
like a dream merging
the spine of seasons
ruffling vintage tests
the rain pressing questions
outside
each pearl lucent kiss
she loves me
she loves him not
breathe alive a hesitant
rush my spirit pulls on
rusty rails the steam
horse driver wheels
lean beneath the dark
the slick wear of water
against a trick of light
this new knowing
growing
Trinkets of solitude, seed-pearls
of wisdom follow me like small birds of
indecision,
how far do I go before I must turn back?
I've been here, but not quite yet.
In love with two men,
as different as the flowers of my servitude,
to whom do I owe my allegiance? Where do
I go when the last train has arrived and
there are no more excuses to be written
into a poem. No shadows of doubt or witnesses
to a holy conclusion or brief interlude, no matter
how ecstatic with revelation.
I met a fellow in my travels
who spent his life, alone.
He thought, at first 'twas his good fortune
sharing not, what he did own.
Through an endless string of days, and nights
where he never thought to share,
his heart became so hardened
he lost his ability to care!
As my life continued on I found
a man with a different fate,
his list was long of current charities
giving him, yet another trait.
CHAMELEON
All has been said and done
many times before
vsions old of human commonality
change in metaphor.
blank verse or rhyme.
different souls .
same journey’s end,
lost in time
fear to hear.
fear to see.
fear to know.
and so
from all others
we learn to hidel
live among as everyone
Beauty is chameleon.
with bandaged loin
shuffling step
before his twenty-fifth birthday
and long before I was born
he returned from
The Great War
she told me
‘doctors made cuts in the webs of his toes’
and, while he screamed his torment
she would pull them apart
until water turned to blood
she told me
at each and every beginning of day
for three long years
he wailed in a flood of
agony and despair
as she slowly drained
the toxins from his body
because his kidneys no longer did
if only you had visited my profile
much earlier than now,
you wouldn't have met such a fate
sad tis late somehow
all along my profile
I speak of virginity
of body, mind and soul…
men only have a single goal
about how to lay
and then let with her youth
others play
they move on to greener pastures
and this is what makes for dismay
disillusioned teenagers fall
for false appreciation,
all guys have two heads
but think with only one
the lower
and
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