Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Kids play with plastic again,
tweak detonators, go to church.
God fights God in the last scene.
Gun runners making a killing.

Munitions from Moscow.
Rockets from the free world.
Laundered cash from Riyadh.
Training camps in Bahrain.

We will own the holy land.
We can't be saved otherwise.
The land of sacred brutality,
bombed-out holy suburbs.

Prophets knew this desert well.
False gods, cities in desolation,
fathers destroyed, children lost.
Ezekiel in a valley of dry bones.

The desert is too quiet.
You hear fossils scream
on its bleak, deadly breath.
God is in whirlwinds.

the desert only remains deserted
when the threat of hu'manity remains
outside of the silence within

but the whispers continue calling
"enter into that which is deserted"
and the fools enter armed with trash

We don't do silence very well;
noise seems to be our way ...

Sometimes there is nothing in the holy desert.

Holy rock and sky in mine. And joshuas, sometimes the joshuas...

Joshua trees those otherworldly looking against the desert sky.

......the silence of the desert......ah......it goes on and on and on.... just ask T.E. Lawrence

Journey and destination at every point, wide-open...

last bastion of peace and quiet....The builders are insatiable, they never stop...all land to them is meant for Mc Mansions....Starbucks.....so glad we can still get away from it all

... and even some of those outer spaces are getting pretty chewed up and gutted-- a considerable upsurge in those godawful strip mines since metal prices shot up. God I hate those things. We have the capital and brute power, no need to screw around with tunneling like the oldtimers, just take the whole hill down. Gigantic gaping wounds . . . But yes, you can still find the spaces between out there...