Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

maybe it's just about time to end this jam experiment.......

there is no way
to end something
which is perpetual

"maybe it's just about time to end this jam experiment......."
yeah dude, c' mon take it real serious
let's get delirious
i'm feeling FURIOUS!!
are ya curious?

It ends just before the turn of the page
So here we have made to page 79
I love how the thing hangs up at the last post of the previous page
"no such post exists"

Oh yes
curiosity killed the cat
color me dead

edit itis

curiosity killed the cat -
poetry brought it back
rolled away the tomb stone
and there the virgins were

but hey,

lock me up on this page
make me pay
for all the play

i love writing too much
i'm such a $!^+

.

from the fire to the frying pan
god damn the poetry man
he's not an ordinary man
he's got a plan

meanwhile i'm still thinking...
i am entering the casbah of the night
the alleys twist upward and onward
through turkish arches and darkened porticos
a soft meander through alleys
laced with patchouli and the faint
wisp of a breathless giggle

leaning against a rock wall
enthralled
with the starry night
smoke curls lingers
from chimney tops

pull my coat tight
hands deep into pockets




(c. what you wrote is elegant. "wisp of a breathless giggle" so fine)

i wonder what she is thinking
who she is and what is her story
as she leans against the wall
ancient as the stars above her head
what secrets does she carry within her pockets
that hide her hands like a small treasure
that warm her from the cold and dark
i would like to talk to her hands
to hear what they might say
and clasp them as if they were my own

he approaches
takes her small hands
from her pockets to warm them
and against a stranger's lips
he offers confessions
sings psalms of life's treasure

tonight
she has given him a voice
to sing the poems from her eyes, blue
the night lightens and the stars
fade like old tears, dry
from the warmth of her smile
and the kindness of her soul

beautiful

How can you end
What goes on and on
Like the circle
There's no end to it
_________________
recession in us

there is no end
there is no begining
it's a long time coming
a long time gone
death is a lonely business
and life is too

a ghost dance
a tango for one
we say hello
and there are no good byes
just the silence of the roaring
the blood in our veins
remembers the