Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

unk!

batten down the hatches with torpedoes! thanks guys!

i have just begun to write!
forget the small crap
i'm going for the big boys
the heavy-hitters
like poppers for breakfast
disturbing shit, yet tastefully done
in the manner to which you are accustomed
with me, its always been the poem
you meant nothing to me
a carny sideshow i might stroll through ...

i think the poem is pretty right on and holds nothing back. it's clear and to the point all the way down to the they think i'm pretty cheap line. after that, it kind of meanders a bit and loses its force.

are you for social change?
sign the petition - click here
too many guns on the streets?
what are you waiting for - click here now!
dalai lama got a bad deal?
for nirvana's sake - click the button
don't just sit there
click that damn button while you're sitting there
global warming steaming you up ...

jelly is jelly and jam is jam
smucker it up like a family man
the lingenberry is in season
the swallows are flying somewhere
every fool has a reason
i'll rhyme somewhere with somewhere
cause that's the way we do it in the old by and by!

the universe is no better
than the microverse, both
claim to be infinite, but
somehow
one is bigger than the other
it's a matter of perception
like a spiraling manicotti
who knows which end is up

here comes another one
just like the other one
welcome to the slippery slope
the land of diminishing returns
it's a bordertown -
a liminal state to be in
like checking in while you're checking out
let the years come and go
i'll wave bye-bye
and whistle while i disintegrate

thanks guys. kind of depressing - the poem, but what's a poet to do?

i like this. its honest simplicity - its warm matter of factness - is perfect for what you convey.

have a merry merry haggis
because one merry just won't do
tie your haggis in a knot
and put the ape in apricot
santa's on his way! woo hoo!
have a merry merry haggis
is there any other kind?
kick that goosey in the ass
and stuff it with lemon rind
mince the meat to mince meat
throw it in green non ...

the nothing man puts one foot in front of the other
his morning meanders - his evening strolls
he calls himself a flaneur, an observer
but his introspection precludes observation
still, it sounds impressive

mythologies are not built in a day
nor do they die easily
they adapt - they reconfigure
they ...

that's what i thought, but i wasn't sure

what's a ribald ellipse?

muted resignation with bittersweet hope - just like in philistia!