New York Pitch Conference Reviews, Algonkian Writer Conferences, and Poetry Forums

 
We are now far from stardust
We are purple hearts golden
We are freed from the devil's bargain
We begin again in the fold
of Our Father's Woodstock Garden
nurtured from a barnyard
with the UniSon of voices
nothing surpasses the power of sun & flower
there is no song without first the son


Woodstock is no big deal
Woodstock is not a deal
Woodstock is for real

Woodstock where a child of God is born
to the sound of music
like when receiving the Miracle Lift
saving the infant from the sleeper
This day you will be with me in Paradise
the lull without the bye


O say can you see
what's real can't be rained out
ever broken-down or killed
Every day people making music 
trumping over the massacre
the HeArtbeat that never really dies
keeping us AOA Alive-on-Arrival
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 

Michael
The repetition of the 'W's works well.

S

Thank you for opening the doors,gates,mouth of the cave.

Bit of a stretch tying the gospel to Woodstock, but I admire the ambition.

A good play on the letter W.
Sounds a little far fetched at least to me.

 
Thanks Siva, meena, and kenneth.


Consider the lyrics (which I allude to in the beginning of the poem) by Canadian Joni Mitchell who documented the heart & soul of the iconic event with her songwriting gift: https://genius.com/Crosby-stills-nash-a ... ock-lyrics

^^ Then I hope you will see that Woodstock is tied to the gospel, and not by dye

but in the Vision of UniSon


"Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace"





Michael (MV)

 
 
 
 
  

 
  
 
 

Maybe a stretch, but quite enjoyable....brings back the days...sigh