Long Lyricists Poems

YinYin,
what did you most appreciate
learning at school this summer?

Probably in Community ReForesting.
You know, the EcoTherapy Class
I took
instead of eating lunch,
using "lunch" loosely
as synonymous with edible,
or at least tangentially related to edibility.

Oh yes, that one.
What stands...

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I am a right-brain prominent writer
which must not be confused with
a prominent left-brain writer,
which I am almost decidedly not
nor would I aspire
toward such all or nothing thinking
and not at all both/and feeling.

Like most writers,
I feel...

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My fetal alcoholic bipolar:

“sometimes I experience low anxiety
and act like a happy drunk”

“sometimes,
like when entering new places 
and situations,
I experience high anxiety
and act like a very bad
and mean-spirited drunk
with immense juvenile curiosity and overload,
near total...

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About Bill Posters and Bill Greenwell

Words not to use in poems

In 1993, I (Bill Greenwell) went on a three-day workshop with the poet Peter Sansom, who co-edits The North, and runs the Smith/Doorstop imprint. He’s...

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After the creation of things
They where all created
But in the world of imagination
Many live as creators
Existing in weird


The created creator,
The poet, I've never imagine 
As a child
I've ever thought of treasure
Never discover the new world


The...

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Among PermaCulture Designers,
planners and cooperative schemers,
choreographers and mappers,
therapeutic lyricists and historical poets,
and probably comedians,
there is a saying,
a principle of experiential truth:
For every healthy function
we discover many nutritional elements.

This has to do with commitment,
most resonantly shared...

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with midnight dreams we dance
unyielding, i stir unwilling to awaken
incessantly seeking
You

like virgin wings of the monarch, your shape gently unfolds
i clutch the edges of slumber
aware in my wakening you will be gone
Again

you have come before,...

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My past,
part of this present,
yet not desperately all
or I live too mortally
in our past;
still breathing
heart beating
but no other present signs 
of hopeful life.

Just so,
this present
part of our future,
yet not all,
Or we have already died
without our...

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Patrick Deneen follows Tocqueville
speaking of risks to Western liberal democratic experiments,
great personal enlightenment adventures
seldom calm within a federating kettle
of competing selected fish,
and usually not cooperatively resilient
for health optimization
of local community peaceful resonant wealth.

In Tocqueville's time...

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When tongue is silent, but muse is chanting - that's poetry.
When we write what the heart has been asking - that's poetry.

As dawn's hues glisten golden rays, in blue, bronze, orange skies,
musings mirror daydreams, so...

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PARALLEL ARE THE RAILS 

(PRE-VERSE 1)
Feeling all alone
Cast away like a stone

Few friends what I got
True friends can’t be bought.

(VERSE 1)
Living is a joke
Think I’m about to choke.
Lookin’ at you
Lookin’ at me
Mirror is true (but...

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I saw the top twirl
As he whispered over again to the crowd,
“You must be the change you wish to see in the world”
I breathed in his air as he did the same to me.
I could...

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When did music begin
for us?
For you?

When did musicians separate
from Earth's music?

Were we thereby commodified
as professionals
instead of cooperative healers
engagers
story tellers
poets
lyricists
dancers
singers
instrumentalists
operatic staged performers,
higher and brighter
smarter and richer?

When does muse therapy end
in talent competitions?
without cooperative EarthMusic
held silently
against sacred...

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Play you noted Lyricists!
Let not your lyrics be missed!
Your silence is the frequency,
Enticed by a laced melody
Condemned in a rhythmic spell
Only time will really tell
Your lyrical harmony
Etched in life's symphony

Oh, Hail! Or Hale! Kings of...

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Catgut
--------------

Gestures and facial expressions
they were advised to
differentiate between
both fact and fiction
to ensure that everyone was
on the same page
Clear points of ending and finishing
plus smooth, seamless transition
 from one song to another
A segue is  often...

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Those who pray by marching
can pray alone
in endless competitions.

Those who pray while dancing
can only pray together
for timeless cooperations.

Hate and fear can only angry march
side by competing side
in uniformity of lock-step supremacy.

But love and compassion
can also...

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As I
Soak in hummingbird’s exhale
I feel tragic sonatas
Trying to chain
Trying to crucify
My sedentary grip on instability

I smell the repugnant commoner
Blasting scattered shots
Against yesterday’s decent

I became the handsome error again.

The godfather of uplifting idle minds
Sedated within...

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Fall Night: 11/22/18


Finally grateful for the fireworks on the fourth of July,
Today I'm finally grateful for the table that the feast is feasting on,
Took the game and the knowledge I was passed down with,
Now on...

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Eight authors were killed today,
some of them, somewhat prominent,
and an unknown number were injured,
when a very large crowd of words
came rushing toward them, and 
crushed them under the throng

Hundreds of onlooking readers were aghast
at the...

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(Intro)
Hello……..my friends.

(Chorus)
It’s nice to see you
After all this time……..once again
Where has the time gone off to
Are our memories of yesteryear
Still as fresh as the lingering pain
that flows like a sorrowful tear
Must we keep our emotions...

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This is dedicated to the
walking conversation pieces
to the crazy geniuses waiting until tomorrow to
procrastinate
this is for the night writers and red bull fighters
to the strange and the brave
the dedicated and sleepless
this is for all of...

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In days old, oral poetry existed
(When most people, including
the authors of poems,and stories, lyricists,
artists,....couldn't read and write.)
as a part of oral literature
which had no titles,nor were the authors known.
Yet, these are from the heart
captivating the...

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I am what you would call the last. 
The outcast of a breed, 
fading so fast 
that people loose track of its original art. 
Its original words spoken from the heart. 
Twisted to form a...

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in response to his baptist cousin’s question
as to whether he had started looking to 
religion
as a way of dealing with his newfound pancreatic cancer
of which
nothing medical could be done
he simply replied, “no”---
to one son asking...

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not goo obvious
the voices freed in the music
pointing and swaying
saying things they need to say
the souls journey
vanishing
dissapearing
transparent
cleverly see through
you will hear me there
you will find something you never thought of
something so clear
to guide you 
but...

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