The stream (all workshops)
I see them now:
Mother and Son:
Some distance from me,
Partly hidden by one
Of a dozen Formica
Partitions that lull
And con…
Partitions that lull
And con
Middle-class matrons
And young lovers on trains
Into a false
Sense
Of privacy…
Lulled into that,
Fair, forty and fat,
She holds her unreluctant cherub
In an embrace that
Is very,
Disturbingly
Familiar…
We had an old kerosene-based
water-heating contraption.
The release valve was on the roof,
just above the kitchen.
The water when it got too hot,
especially in the summer
would bubble noisily onto the tin
annoying my poor mother.
So one phrase from our mum
we heard many times a day
There goes that damn kero stat again,
in exasperation she would say.
Youthful vigour buried in history.
Forsaken by her kith and kin,
Languishing in mute agony.
Reversioned poetry
Naïve or Unassuming!
A great deal
For your everlasting and solid support
As always,
albeit I impose positivity
In all human beings
I at times portray a default
though it may just be
An act of lack of wisdom
And
As they always said
Naivety meaning stupidity
but I learned as time lapsed
ere I really collapsed
I became unassuming
Slightly a shade better
Than being gloomy
She Needs A Hug Right now
She's thinking somber thoughts again
I can see the worry furrows
Her mouth is tightened to a frown
She says; "I'm worried don't you know"
I kiss her brow so tenderly
She must feel it matters
Seedling’s seed to Earth
Simple seedling, to seed then shoot,
I pray you grow into a peoples brute.
Quiet, soft are all good and well,
but some won’t listen until you yell.
That mother Earth a champion needs,
our bravest hero now concedes.
And though I lurch into an absurd,
the champion I plant, a simple word.
Banish tyranny’s evil sword and gun,
there are spoken battles, that must be won.
Let all who live on this inhuman land,
know, no more will die from a raised hand.
Never did I encounter
Such a love that
Blossoms at the sight
Of my dismay
Oh sweet loneliness
Why, do I hold onto to you?
Have I not the strength
To bid you farewell
As I shed a rainstorm
You observe me silently
As if you fathom my
Dark skies
Loneliness, even though
You cause me harm
I have a warm place
For you in my heart
You’re unlike the rest
Oh you don’t torment my soul
Instead you embrace my agony
Leading me to believe
That someone cares
Is poetry a type of math
with measured and oft random flow
which can be charted on a graph
the kind the mathematicians know ?
Or is it some kind of an art
with strokes of pen instead of brush
where visuals are the main part
built in layers with no rush
Maybe it is pure emotion
exhibited for all to see
by anyone who takes a notion
to set their inner feelings free
Some say music's what it is
with all the rhythm and the rhyme
composed by some verbal whiz
intent on beat and keeping time
They Say!
They say times
Are for ever changing
and
All time is never the same
Tis a fact of life
But love is something
That should never change
Ah! Lust
Within the cusps of love
We must for ever retain.
Naturally Natural!
At times I love being
In my natural form
As nature saw me
When I was born,
That naturalness
Makes me love those
Who do always surround
All the year long
This life
and
Time around!
This piece is a co-write with my good friend Ziggy. This is a poem/song written for Candlewith (Cat). It may not be apparent exactly why we wrote it in this way and the subject matter may not be appreciated by all, that said, I can safely say this is the most important piece I have ever been involved in and I thank Ziggy for helping to create this piece. From both Ziggy and myself...welcome back Sister.
Sister
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