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The stream (all workshops)

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



The corn is green and tall and thick,
its field is long and wide.
There certainly must be some trick
to growing such a place to hide.

Deer likely lie within its shade
as they ruminate and think.
Perhaps they recall fall's loves made
how rutting took them to their brink.

And starlings in their weaving crowd
spend days there eating what they would,
fussing, talking confused and loud
not leaving till they've had their fill.

Still Alive (May Contest)(Poetic Selfie)

Still alive with all these chores;
Cleaning windows, sweeping floors,
Washing, dusting, folding the laundry
Is there no end? Is there no boundry?

The day winds up, I'm still alive
the poetic elves are up to write.

Geetime... May contest

Wrestling with words
as I watch "The Man"
Pay attention as best I can

Wrestle on, stay in kayfabe
Don't let them know
Keep on truckin', go Gee, go

MJ, Neo. and Geezer's Killer
Love Wendy, my long wife
These are the things, make my life

To learn me

My life so lonely my eyes just wanna close
Only myself to blame for these paths I chose
Never ask for anything never heard me complain
I walked through the fires I still feel the pain
I except you Lord in Jesus name
New life already beginning to unfold
The past is gonna just be a story never told
New start without even a single dime
Nobody can put shade over my new shine
Realizing now life is just training course for what's to come
Time I stop hurting myself and smile stop being so numb

Rubber Band Man

Toting jeans hanky and chaps
thin man rubbing solo band
harmonica in two hands
airing throat commands
guitar metal stands

hoovering crowd
boogie down
snapping loud
sip'n SanGria

rubber band
brother man
roughly fingering
street melodies
coins stroken
bucket notes posted
feather dusting
bass guitar
footing the bills.

The Lonely Hill

I walk upon a lonely hill
Its soft song echoing in my fragile ears
Radiating past yesterday’s sorrows
Its frigid hands grasping mine
Longing for a place to call home
Longing for me to whisper
Into its bestial hair
For my feet soon plummet
And my legs soon follow
Falling deep into
A cascading waterfall of stones
Comforting my broken bones
As the waterfall had once flown
But how that fall has grown
As it sits on an ascending throne
On that hill that is so lone.

Picasso's Blue

like a cardinal
in a world of white

your heart
in this frozen place

you are a fire
with wings

the painter's
favorite color

Van Gogh's yellow
or Picasso's blue

the top point
of the golden triangle

at least in my world
you are the star

Senryu (going out) May Contest

shaved, ‘stash and hair trimmed
aviation frame sparkles
my partner to dine

Remember Me Pop

Hi Pop

I have composed many
Moms’ poems
on dad
perhaps only one

but your dad
I would love to salute
add what a charming one
he has produced in you
as a loving son

Dads have to be outwardly harsh
spare the rod and spoil the child

all moms love sons and daughters
but from harsh treatment
they shy away


How I wish I had a dad like yours
would he care to bless me
kindly ask
for me

Bringing Us Home

The rounded nest
The boxy hive

The glinting glassy lake
And the heavy
Rolling waves
Of the sea

Nature is our soul’s mirror
Or an invitation
To consider
A different way to be

The tree with its lunging roots
The thunder’s raucous roar

The atom shedding electrons
Or a ladybug
In spurts of semi-circular flight

The botanist
The nuclear physicist
The zoologist

Find themselves
In what they study


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