Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the sax player was high on junk
the heavens were crashing down
the streets were melting into patterns
all the city lights were higher then a kite
the pyramid was levitating in the contrast
like a newspaper headline that spoke jibberish
to the floating bodies along the concrete path
through the pink ...

when the words wept at the wind
because nobody knew what they really said
it wasn't that the words could not be read
or that those who could read them
would not think they knew what they meant
it was that the words had so much more to say
besides communicating simple descriptions
of events and ideas ...

due to calling a spade a spade
your hand has been over played
the debt is never payed
we are left with playing fish
a wish is a wish is a wish
don't be a far out fraidy cat

God bless the child of the Aeon
and they are not beguiled
due to the second coming being canceled
now they have become ...

I can't cope
everything is nothing is something
what's up with that what isn't up
it's neither here or there
it's everywhere or nowhere
it's all on a bet or a dare
Hodads beware!
surf's up and sputnik too
I don't care anymore
about no saluting no flag no more
am a rebel with an effect
comb my fins ...

here's to the fan dance...dance on.

thanks for the Nietzsche quote dadio and for the permutations on the word sick creativesoul.

each small novel sized poem holds another nuance of the same but different picture.Can you see the nuance in the slight flicker? Look quicker.

Of course it's not just Rimbaud, it's all those dark posts that follow in their foot steps.

It is no different when I first read Rimbaud
so long ago yet not so long ago
the time it took to read that first poem by R
to the time I am still reading it now
the poem held me in its grip of grains
one by one the words filled my vision
just as it was then as it is now still reading
that poem ...

nothing terminal in the near future
I just had a bad experience with
a woman a lot younger then me
also I miss my wife terribly
I once met Billy Burroughs
I bought him a beer
he died about a year later
I also heard his dad read live
I have eaten my Naked Lunch
and my Reality Sandwiches

thanks for ...

I don't have much time left
the jackals are closing in
the shadows of my mind
once I saw a vast highway before me
a black ribbon of tape unraveled my view
the coffee was thick with new ideas
and the sun shone in my deep cup
love was a blue day breathing you in
now the curtains are being drawn
over ...

I'm tired of being tired
I'm tired of being sick
I'm sick of being tired
I'm sick of being sick
I'm sick and tired of being tired and sick
and I'm tired and sick of being sick and tired
but I'm not bored with a body
that gets tired and sick
at least I'm amused with what it means
to be in a sick and ...

The lady was a tramp and a vamp
I saved that butterfly postage stamp
in the book of rare oddities
how much like our own lives
are between these gossamer pages
pressed like a flower of farewells
all those perfumed veils of the enchantress
she moved behind as she removed them
one by one in a ...

Just listened to a dead song
Grateful Dead of course
it was, "death don't have no mercy"
it goes death don't have no mercy in this land
I don't recall ever hearing this song before
I guess I was not a real Dead head
But I remember going to that Dead show
with you on new year's eve in frisco
you were ...

happy poetry kept in my head

right, it's the stuff we write that is kept on paper or hyperspace

and we really are at the mercy of every breath you take