poetry the muse is life, song the muse is child

A song for owen,

There is infinite love in the eyes of a child
infinite love for us all
there is infinete love in the eyes of a child
for every man woman boy and girl

There is true forgiveness in a babys smile
for all the wrongs that were ever done
true forgiveness in a babys smile
why are they the only ones

There is hope and peace in the eyes of a child
hope and peace for the world
there is trully hope for peace in the eyes of a child
now if only adults could learn
now if only adults could learn

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I wrote that for my son, well watching him smiling lieing on the floor, he likes to hear me sing, he turns my poetry into song. it's also a good way to calm him down or put him to sleep. on August 26 i wrote it so it counts for last weeks writing
now this weeks poem. this next poem is a ....
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Spontanious poetry explosion

fear, love, verbs, pizza
coffey, black as night sweet as juxtaposition
The storm of Stones (skule-thume) will punch you in the face with the force of an axe
1d6 to be egsact

my mind shatters on the keys
T Y U I O
I don't owe you anything For I'm not drinking Tee.
BUt I still pay you with the Tapping of this saver of trees

I sapose I'm going nowhere, and spelling the words wrong too
Does that mean I' took the wrong turn going nowhere
and ended up at somewhere soon

If you try to analise my lines
Go ahead it'll break the kindness of your lies
For you'd be putting more thought in your reinterpretation
then I ever put in mine.

It's all just words but hay I guess it's good enough for 35 minutes past yesterday
I'm living in tomorow anyway

Peace love joy
the toys of the true world are are rotting on the streets of the poor
well they wandur on the pedways above crying
greed, hate, destroy
Don't touch the ground
just get in your car and drive
I'll be on my bike
Putting my foot Down at Every second street light

this thought train can not be derailed for it was never on the track in the first place

words are only powerfull when they strike a note in your brain
keep on writing, give more words lives.

inspiration in blue bloom

Picked a flower from a patch of blue
I belive it was a pack of pansys all in bloom
planted in a planter the unnatural way
every flower all the same.

picked it and caried it as I went on my way
just that one flower brought a smile to my day
I wonder what it would look like to a honey bee
for in ultraviolet I cannot see

I brought it with me and then squashed it flat
between the pages of a note book I have
now that bee can never see
blue vains navy bloom, baby blue petals and a dark heart.
but I can show this beauty for the world to see
in words or in pictures time will show me.

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the art of pressing a flower is kind of like capturing a thought a feeling or a moment in poetry. you get something but it is never a true representationof the origenal.

if you like poetry there's a festival coming up so support your poets and see them live.
for more info go to Edmontonpoetryfestival.com


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I added the side pictures after the fact, origenaly there only was one flower, however I pressed it wrong and it ripped. so I pressed these four, to show you.