It's the final day of the routine seven,
The jig is nearly up,
Its back to work come morning time,
Till then we'll take a sup,

Sure Nealon's is the place to go,
Its usually quiet at this time,
Leave your gaf and start to walk,
And then call in to mine

The laughing and the chatting,
As the stout begins to flow,
Suddenly its last orders,
And then we'll have to go

I can't help but feel so...

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Theres a pub on the corner
A shop across the way
A patch of grass and monkey bars
Were the children play

No ball games signs
They still play ball
Neighbours don't really mind at all

Neighbourhood watch man two doors from the end
And his little dog his bestest friend

The polish lady who's always knitting
On her step a cat's always sitting

The tie dye artist always covered in paint
Shes ...

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We invest ourselves
in our actions
for a dividend
of posterity.
Whomever we affect
carries us on
so that we do not die.

We cannot be entirely
any one
when we owe so much
to so many
who themselves the same,
and we
in turn
more than ourselves
will be whomever we've supported

So hoarding all
is the only way
to end up with nothing.
 

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We live our lives together
Breathing the same air
Yet never help each other
It makes life hard to bear.

So much could be made better
In just a little time
And time could last forever
If we just use it right.

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Brothers of sand

Holding signs, I am a man 

Daughters of dust

Holding signs life in her gut

Fathers of the past

Never thought how long this would last

Mothers of the movement

Never thought so many forget their commitments.

Brothers of man

Fictional to control and command

Daughters of woman

Subjected to the desire of lust

Fathers of the future

H...

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in acute distress is where I was

firing flares or else lighting fires

engraving SOS on the sandy beach

for want of any telegraph wires

I watched for sails on the horizon

every day I searched the skies

I kept a careful log of my every day,

alone, its amazing how time flies

I quickly got sick of coconuts

fish all began to taste the same

goats and chickens are ...

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Our home, a pale blue dot in the vastness of universe's untouched beauty, a tiny, spherical world, afloat in a immensity of space and time. Here for a moment, and then we're leaving for the eternity. In the school of mortality we learn to acrobat over the abyss.
Alexis karpouzos

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Untouched but not Unfelt

Spent years like a husk
now life is kindling again,
purifying from pain
and pleasantly plentiful 
at present. 

The cage of the State 

is nothing, 

for I traversed the labyrinth of my own mind
and survived.

So I shall recognise shackles
as a concept,
but be mindful of surrendering control. 

Isolate from crowds but not from feelings,
not from unde...

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Stir crazy, 
my mind’s hazy. 
Penned in like chicken 
that never lays...
e-mergency broadcasts 
and a merging of powers. 
 

When did we surrender control of the supply chain? 
I hear vegans got beef
with carnies, 
but you can’t get the show on an empty road.

Do we even know where our food is grown? 
Butcher, cheesemonger, greengrocer, and farmer... 
were stripped from our com...

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Being a woman is not simply belonging to a certain demographic. It is a privilege not to be taken lightly.Being a woman is being an indestructible soldier in a Historic Movement of Epic proportions. Flourishing in the knowledge that you are a part of something so special is utterly gratifying and nothing short of a miracle. An elite member of a Universal Society comprised of The Global Community a...

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WORK DAY ENDS

The work day leaves around me.

I do not share the rush to cars or beers or childcare pickup.

I do not need to slice the everyday’s hot cord

that doesn’t fuel my energy, my need

to prove I can - mostly to myself.

I let the walker-talkers move

somewhat shy of stampede down halls

too long for anything but gale-strong drafts,

up hills too steep for anything but...

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Fields Of Carbon And Blood (1984)

You praised as they died in their dugouts

for a cause proclaimed honest and true.

No mention of cowards or traitors -

a justified war to see through.

Now you mock the bravest of fighters

who live to bring coal from the earth.

Not bully-boyed in to your armies -

but pushed down the pits after birth.

They ask for no...

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When we think about the freedoms

our ancestors thought for,

the cracking of the great enigma.

Futile hopes soaked in apple-core tears

crashing like a faulty application.

Remember, that's so gay.

When you websling like Spidey

page to page.

From songs on YouTube,

to memes about Derp...

remember his hurt.

Remember, that's so gay.

...

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https://plus.google.com/communities/112619643260718091723

By its nature writing is for the most part a solitary business which is why sites like WOL are great to keep in touch, share ideas, post poetry etc.

For this reason I've started a *new* community over at Google +. You may love or hate social media and personally I detest the whole Facebook thing but I have fund that the new...

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They say home is where the heart is

and my heart is where the art lives.

So where is my home?

Art lives within us all

and begins an internal/external exchange...

a process

like humanity to trees.

We stop, relax, breathe

as one.

So where is my home?

First Contact was my spiritual home

gave meat and marrow to

broken spir...

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Artist supporting Artist

Supporting Art

Not underground

Not under the radar

But above it.

Creative.

Artist supporting artist

Paintings on the wall

Not hanging by a thread

Not hung at all

But painted onto it.

The wall being the backdrop

On which the artisan paints

The back ground

For every artist’s palette.

Etchings, sketchings,

Lines and hills

Dips and gullies

C...

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