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The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

XX

cobwebs
quieted steps
and muffled voices

portraits
hang sideways
death came alone

spring cries
it is wrong
to harvest early

Turmoil

A school
of fish swam
in uniforms

Got caught
in torrent
of torment

Their ocean
in turmoil
turned bloody red

Burning...

Fire
Happening
Internally

Water
Happily
Extinguishing

Breathless
Willingly
Co-operates

Sunku 6 Workshop

Roast fest
Burning bricks
And fire bombs

Niceness
Been kicked out
Pissed off in the house
__
I’m like
A strange bird
Caught in the wind

Hangin' Van Gogh

Hangin' Van Gogh,
out at the French Chateau,
palates all been dressed,
just to construct this mess,
burgundy red to Royal blue,
portray ruling societies true virtue,
hangin' Van Gogh.

Now you know this Van Gogh,
he felt kinda low,
brush strokes rigid, direct,
softening to near perfect,
his crimson's bled, society's bed,
his brush dipped in pain,
such excess, insane.
He saw beauty in all that waste,
high society not his taste,
hangin' Van Gogh.

Hands

suffer the emmense silence briddled through it's cadence alone
filter through the emmense prism where time and space is reflected
hands emmerse through the closet of fear captured in the viles of tears
shadows block the vortex toward the innate following of belonging

Fraud Cum Laude

Conspiring in bank
Friends in High Places to thank
Fleeing as stock sank

Star Struck... [February contest]

Staring at the night-time sky
Darkness set with stars
A trillion lights meet my eye
I see Jupiter and Mars

Astonishment befogs my brain
Where do they go when it’s light?
What happens to them in the rain?
How do they pass from sight?

Are they gathered by a mystic being?
Do they put them in a jar?
Released at night to be seen
Thrown out to spread so far

Spirits walk the paths of light
Down to the earth they stride
We are children in their sight
On flaming stars they ride

Why I Hate Mondays [February Contest]

In a cocoon of weekend's comfort
Between my comforter and gray fleece blanket
I bought from Walmart two summers ago,
I lay there like a small puppy
Safeguarded by my mother’s paw,
Capturing every bit of warmth
Radiating from her body.

Deep sleep slipping
Into the cosmos of the sandman,
My body floats into a world
Where my imagination runs
Through hills,
I stand singing on a comet
And dancing like M.J
Along the milky way,
Horseback riding on Saturn’s rings

Future's not ours to see

Angels
fairy tales
nursery rhymes

Parents
and Teachers
make kids believe

Their souls
now recite
Que Sera Sera....

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