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The stream (all workshops)

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


Will o' The Wisp

a kiss on the cheek
a dainty wave

a sigh

good bye

her fate is hers
mine is mine

such sweet sorrow;


amidst smiles

The Orange Salamanders

I remember tripping over a stone
Near the mountain bungalow
And found two bright salamanders
Not moving, fast asleep.

I took them by the tail and they awoke
Twisting like a screw between my fingers,
I put them in my thermos, closed it tight,
And brought them home.

Dad supplied a shoe box with a screen
(Cut out from the patio door
That I ran through like a bulldozer
Giving myself a scab on my nose.)

Wait for me

The sounds echo down time's corridor,
“wait, wait, wait for me. Wait for me!”
Playmates run, what can they know
of the chemos that attack her blood;

or chemicals, all mixed up in her brain,
that often throw her into such a wild
her eyes make no contact, poor child,
lost in some desperate, unknowing rage.

Pre-tears sting my eyes to look back;
small bald head, wide pleading eyes.
God, that one so young has to face
such hard truths, in her fight for life.

Heart Is All I Can Give

Heart Is All I Can Give

Very beautifully
folks put across
the qualities of their hearts

but like the darkness
beneath a candle
we are ever in search
land up in lurch

when we return home
we discern our ground
where happiness
peace and love
all can be found

with all in love around
on our very own ground..

My heart palpitates for all poets
where can diamonds be ever found
unless you come here
to read poets extremely sound

Wall Call

It stood
right across my path
side stepping, I moved on
who said walls have ears?

seasons on I returned,
to see
writing on the wall
was in moss

side stepping
around some forlorn bricks
of fallen hopes
I moved on

startled by a deafening noise
I looked back,
a witness to its collapse

my mind was in chaos

when the moss returned to dust
I felt like a culprit
for being blind to
writing on the wall

A Lone Leaf

a lone leaf survived the winter
onto the ground it was transformed

some colors of red, blue & green
the leaf would sing

passerbys came from the park saw the leaf blowing in the wind
a Robin would sing on the barren path

a trucker came out of the diner & saw the leaf
cascading in the ever present flowing wind

a sincere report of dust in the wind
a heros pardoning through the breeze

bask in the vast expanse between time & space
as if the leaf was a friend from outer space

Mewling (after Robert Frost's "Mowing")

If Robert Frost were writing today
When lawn mowers scream and sputter
Catch a snake or mouse unmercifully
In their alternating blades (and blood!)
When cars and planes pollute the world
With their fumes and noise and such
So that no wilderness remains completely wild
When diesel tractors not hearty horses
Do most of the work and pesticides are sprayed
On the grass and the flowers and the fruit
He would not be talking about labor and hay
The way he does, as a gold more noble than elven coins

To The Chagrin Of A Dare-Devil Grammarian

a lengthy poem I wrote
depthy in meaning
and breadthy in scope
yet ranked heighthiest
on a list
of lite-weighty tripe and
curtly dismissed

damn prissy grammar police!


I've sped this interstate before
with horses racing 'neath the hood
while thoughts of work pecked at my core;
no attention spared for field or wood.

But this afternoon the snow flakes swarm
clearing most traffic from my route.
I switch heater to hot from warm
attempting to keep the chill out.

Then suddenly I'm forced to slow
by a wave of sudden thick whiteout
and as I gradually cease to go
I take time to think and look about.

Curious Natures

In a more weak world the most aggressive advantages
don't always deal in what is referred to as "fair consequence."

Being an empire built of sharks, snakes, wolves, and rats-the most basic of beasts-
we really understand the most prehistoric philosophy: survival.
Using it as the first building blocks and the cracked foundation for this society.


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