Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Kapitan Narcissus decided once,
pursued by a soiled echo,
rather than surrender
to rabble he’d perish…
mounting his reflection
in a violet mansion
he never saw
the chaldeans at his gate…

though when called by the
Wehrmacht to serve
he was commissioned
officer…
and rumor is he had
a pils with the
soliders after a putsch,
or did he man a stuka
over York...

at his explosion
a eucharist
was served
to you

I dreamed I had a driveway full of Edsels
each one had that cyclops eye on the grille
animals extinct and wishing their genes
to Mustangs and Thunderbirds

see that is what I mean
I try to not to envy
you got that poetry
you got that music
you got that leaping brain
and I got words
just black squibles on a white text box
come on bojangles take me away

at his explosion
a eucharist
was served
to you

oh yeah you got that too
me just a word kook

buenos noches amigo

I don't know where to draw the line
It's like a bad Johnny Cash tune
I feel like a jet pilot in Iraq
it's all a video game

no real gristle and shank
no real pain and concussion
just mash the button and
watch the instant replay.

"you done flushed me from the toilet of your heart"
not sure if johnny wrote that one
I don't know what it means
it's just nice to turn words
into just sounds
pleasing to the ear
what does it matter
what it means

some got it I don't
some people make too much sense
sometimes I wish i had a sylabus

hey we are nothing there is no wonder, no mystery, just meat

it was wonderful here in san antonio yesterday
not one frigging word about Iraq on the front page
just some stuff about a murder and a couple drive by shootings

I actualy got outside to day but I forgot to look at the sky
I think it was a beautiful day
about fifty
and sunny

Lots has been said about
Icarus and his magician
daddy Daedalus. Investigating
the various reports
one might discover
how like ants the villagers
seemed to him while
in flight.

Kind of like the view from Air Force One


courtesy jimboloco

I know my wings are made of wax
and I'm more of a termite than an ant
we are more socially evolved

oh, I know, not as high as the bees
they have no arguments or democracy
I'm going to ride Air Force One someday,
just as a passenger.

wax lips
a chewable sex symbol

wax wings
a mournable human symbol

dark mornings
a truth wrapped in reality

cloudy brains
a dream-state clinging for dear life

mournings and melancholia
on a dark morning
on the beach in ocean city
sitting on a bench waiting for mr bojangles
the blind musician and his dog mandy
to come down the board walk
just praying to see that sun come up
out of that dark ocean

pleeeeeease carry on sister judi

I got to go
read you in the morning

following my bliss
to the holy grail
of living one's own life.

the dark ocean
rises from the moon
as stars sing a beethoven riff

can you hear?
cry the avenues
can you navigate the waves?

as i rock myself awake
a bough breaks
and i climb ever higher

it's not the sleep
it's the nostalgia for sleep

they call us dreamers
but what do they know?
those who see reality,
see what they came for

what they came for
selling themselves short
only a minute portion
is visible to those

i ask myself
if i'd rather be
deaf or blind
but i think
i'm already both

hindsight
mindsight
deer in the headlights
turn on your lovelights
i like the nightlife,
baby..
and sometimes i fear
i'm stuck in the 80's
or somewhere in seattle
when cobain was alive
i'm always stuck
somewhere
right now
it's a place
i'll not get out of,
as long as i'm here..

stuck!
freedom hangs out in bars
a cage match
me v.s. my attachment

let me in!
i crave lock-up
(cries no one, yet i wait for that voice)

i am where my attention is
(thank you lady wisdom for that)
and my attention is wanderin

wanderin' in
wonderment
wait, i meant..
no, nevermind

you're much too kind
you warm my coffee
many times
someone said
coffee goes bad
five minutes after
it's brewed

my coffee is just
as good the next
morning,
but that's just me
and that's ok

i've got my feelers out
i'm lookin' for a flow
a flower
a bud
something
i'm searching this night
for something more
special than words

just everyday words
tossed in a pile
set on fire
fueled with day old coffee
and a small desire
to write.

date a day old kiss
and you get renewed life

i want the coffee of the moment
the taste of right now
the immediate caffeine of zow

before i search for my mind
i wanna languish in the thought
of soon coffee
mmmm spresso

words will struggle to find themselves
while i'm lost in taste