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This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the ">workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.

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Simon Apr 30, 2021

Time is not running (Narrative workshop)

The school opens at 7:00 am
And closes at 2:00 pm
Hmmm such a long time waiting
Well, the teacher's so nice
Friendly and jovial
All pupils enjoy learning

Their engagement flow well
But something changed
Excuse me miss
What time is it?
12:30 pm I guess
And she continues teaching

Jerry gazed at the clock endlessly
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock.
Tick, Tock he counts the seconds
Seems like a count down game
It runs in his mind
The river side swimming game
Slowly the miss approaches

T
tyro Aug 22, 2019

Listening to the drums (primal poetry)

he heart begins slightly to race
and she is not happy. The steady
thum, thum, thum, is not her taste.

a little boy is being physically bullied,
forced to be subservient to the will
of a more powerful other.

mind then drifts to abstractions
where it picks up the eternals
to bridge the tempora sphere.

Then the beat calls me back, the heart
has accustomed, and I can understand;
after all, we all come out of Africa.

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Chiori Aug 01, 2019

ANCESTORS (Primal Poetry)

Here stood our ancestral home
the crumbling wall marks the spot
here a sheep was led to the slaughter
to appease the gods and atone

for faults which our destiny
has blossomed into crimes
there my cursed father once stood
and shouted to us, his children
to come back from our play
to our evening meal and sleep.

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Barbara Writes Jul 11, 2019

Black Blob Primal Poetry

in the twilight of the night
before the day light comes
a black blob
a white light
a lion's head was formed...

a black blob appeared before my eyes
a white blob came from the dark side
and the face of a lion formed from the light
three times is what i saw...

tiny blue blobs
appeared at the bottom
in the corners
the image...

S4
Sparrow 42 Jul 11, 2019

More Drifting (Primal Poetry Part two)

More Drifting

I felt your presence, so I have returned
Sitting there on the beach mind in a churn
I heard the call from you for a place to go
Here I am so that I can another place show

Let us walk a while till senses subside.
Turmoil boils creating a noise inside
I will show you of the other place I know
Over there is a cave that invites us so.

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weirdelf Jul 09, 2019

I’m In Love... Again (Primal Poetry Stage 2)

On a good day
It’s everyone I see
(except skinheads)
On a bad day
It’s just one or two,
Who shine.

But there is one species on this planet
That hearing one of its own in distress
Runs towards
Instead of away
(that’s us, by the way)

It’s not just our big brains
Or opposable thumbs
We care for each other
Genetically
Humans are fucking commies by nature.

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Simon Jul 03, 2019

Memory Link (primal poetry)

A trumpet has been blown
For unity
For brain work
For love
For peace

The flute has given
The rhythm
The melody
The hope
The joy

For the time of old
Never dies
Our forefathers
Our forethought
Our time to renew

For the colours we see
The sounds
The timing
The prime
All started afar and now and ongoing.

T
tyro Jul 02, 2019

Primal beats

Before space, before time,
there is a different heart beat,
without deviation, without pause.

It’s the perfection, before the bang
flung out eternity, and all of infinity
to give to the mind a home.

The purity can never be attained,
no longer instantaneous to the all,
unless you be a binary particle.

My human blood cannot take
the monotony, so the beat speeds,
it slows, becomes silent at times.

My mind wonders, it looks back
on itself, and wonders if it is now
the eyes and ears of the universe.