Writing Workshop

a normal day, like every other before it.

a job to do.

I’m there, waiting(as per usual)

for instructions…

steel capped boots grinding quartz and dust,

until the point and grunt is given,

we never stopped once
to consider the road,
or the chosen scent
of the chosen rose.

we just loved how our feet walked
and how it pleasured our nose.

we never once stopped
and thought of the sound,
our foot…

just a little thread
of water
down the side
of a cup
of a tree trunk

trickle

how the time
ticks sometimes lonely
sometimes only
second to second
a world apart

trickle

as honey runs
sweet
insipid
and slow
just e…

in the most silent way,
how he passes his time,
gradual light graces his fronds,
smears across late day hues,
in an exquisite dance,
whispers through the tines.

the hill is bored endless by rabbit,
my cush…

take me to the place where you go
where nobody knows

darkness sits in hot idleness
across my half sleeping form,
in unseasonal warmth,
the night noises enter
each open window.

you had to leave,
and in these days inbetween,
my second brain
does not see or hear…

If dusk mayhap should find you
On the road ’ere it gets dark,
And owls hoot more often
Than warbles the meadow lark
And up ahead, before you creeps
A cloying and deepening fog
You know you must be brave …

By allowing the elaborate collage of words to paint imagery they may only have encountered dripping out of their most unexplainable dreams…

i still love you as
we are, not missing any
thing of how i luv ed;
what you said’s my love
and what i said’s my luv, seem s
to’ve been nil/nix close;
seems is but word, verbed
simulated/me…

I’ll walk the walk.
I’ll talk the talk.
I’am who I’am.
And that’s not all…

If I can sense your smell…
I’ll fly like a bat out of hell.
I’ll come crash…

Pixies highlight the ethereality
as the night sky falls upon you

the tiny shells
and legs like minute strands of bone
in my hand
they look like nothing
feel all tickly fine

yet these are the foundations
the things we
build ourselves upon

easily crushed
and forgotten
but…

i recognise the signs,
as obvious now to me
as the simple passages of time.

but the growth of doubts
still catches me on my blindside,
and when alone
the effect is magnified.

i dont always enjoy this heat…

now that i am sixty five
time to retire whatever
that may mean…?
good to withdraw from
waged oppression
have time, find space
to set the good ship
of my soul sailing
on thought, on …

Are you finished tugging on my heart strings?

And the moon was blue,
our stars hid behind the thick velvet cape of royal darkness.
It just me and you.
You and I.
Nocturnal lovers with ice glittered skins that could out-shine golden envy that jeal…

I tried to wriggle from you
Your kiss held me still 
As I let my self embrace
That suffocating thrill 
Of unwrapping the Territory
 that eyes had feasted on
But somehow invaded me like 
The melody of a song…

The knocking noise your tongue makes
Pauses of the silence, spit-back to open a weary insessant scapula bite
Riding a nightmare of twin razors-your refusal to sleep
A glass artifical lake lapping at an …