The stream (all workshops)
"Bard"
Devotion of self-sacrifice,
And the humble artist's
Fervent beauty,
Tumble upon the canvas.
Like the Shaman's Spirit Wheel
Of eternal fire and ice,
Speaks of the forming of the world,
The creator's ardent hands
Shape wet clay
On the potter's wheel,
This natural simplicity
Shapes this poet's pen.
NEW CONCEPT OF POETRY
You have given the lead
And
I'm grateful to uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Others may follow suit
Let’s get out of the graves,
Of our ancestors
And
Compose each poem afresh,
Unique and out of the blue
AND
WE ALL ARE SURE
ALL WILL LOVE
THIS NEW TREND TOO …
LET’S MAKE A BEGINNING
AS change is the womb
Of a newer generation
How I wish all of us knew
Fair Jerome, dedicated his life
To the study of hidden knowledge
Made it clear to anyone who cared
Chastity would have been his stay
But for the duty to his wife who bore kids
Hardliner, he was, extreme sometimes
Wished for cremation so he made a will
His lifeless body be burnt upon transition
Embalmed not, nor kept in the morgue
With attendant expenses and troubles
you are the type of guy
who ends up in night court
pleading not guilty, expounding
differences between stalking girls and
adoration
you attend political rallies for
free drinks and the whores
half drunk on aspirations to be
the first to fuck a candidate, with
you, all too eager to oblige
but you forget their names
you write on freeway overpasses
how god is necessary and so is death
but you'd never hug a tree or write
eulogies for your family. waited four hours
i almost fell between a rock and a hard place,
it rained a hard rain yesterday
and hurt blossomed with echoes of thunder,
five o' clock this morning birdsong fills my ears
and the ground is saturated with unshed tears,
you are the shoulder on which I lay my grief,
you are arms and an arm's embrace
you are hands that tear open old scars,
and hands that expose a wounded heart
a test of the workshop button
Hello dad, it's been a while
since we had a chance to talk
I've kind of missed that crooked smile
let's go with memory for a walk
Hope that you've been doing fine
there at your new home
remember that muscadine wine
and all the hills we used to roam?
They say the fish are biting well
at those places that we used to fish
to go again would be just swell
we'd catch as many as we'd wish
Time
went by so fast
did I understand
what to pass on
to the ones I love
imparting to those
the importance
of hard work, honesty
and how to dedicate
Did they get it
or did I fail
only their future
will tell
so please
don't give me
presents
which will never
measure if I was
a bad or good
Dad
show me by
your reliance
on what you've
learned.
violet pansies with silly faces
ask me about truth
it's Sunday morning and old hurts
return to kick me in the guts and i'm
already down for the count
when your father is dead there's nothing
but silence between you and his grave
absence is sixty-four scorpion stings,
but you keep
on walking
my children will always remind you that
Father's Day is not about men with selfish
inclinations, it's about a mother's child,
loving you with their always-children hearts--
Unfinished business, not only about half baked bread
It is also propos of shoddy execution of public projects
Like building hospitals and schools, puffed up contracts
Road construction and even in the rider of protection
Bogus, they are, deficient in quality, wanting in rationale
It is really that which we must do acceptably to the end
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