Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

gingerbread phrappaccino
avec paregoric,
sprinkle some
Howl on top,
the corporate
tones are playing
the requisite amor
in Sapph minor
I got some
encino wood,
latex, and a room
at the Elms
join me
with
a
grain
or two

encino
would
..i know it
east coast blue
west coast reds
out back playin solo
in a musty tool shed
waiting for the boy
who comes to
cut the grass

chainsaw
chaingang
garden snake
grows fat again
grunge ain't dead
but i still mourn
the dude from
frankie goes to hollywood..

chris cornell's
abandonment
wearing who's shoes now?
you gotta be kidding..

took 'em two weeks
to miss ol' layne..
but they found kurt
almost right away

gangreen eaten
pincushion man
knowing the right
oral manuver
woulda' saved us all

and not just them.

the right oral maneuvre
isn't that the holiest graal of all
left turn before the end
and spun aground again

imagistes primitive.
analogged
metal birds
the grunge is undead
the garage of
candy angst
open
24/7;
but if poetry
according to
official
jackals
is now impossible
a marshall
a jerry cantrell
bone
chant
may do
as well
as
hyacinths:

loose lips sink ships
there is no statue of limitations
on
murder
maybe I should have felt revulsion
what could the google cops find out
just some person
I used to know
twenty years ago
but I do wonder
about those who deal in slaves
there is a statue of limitations on glass
like the six inch shard
through the eye of a small
child lying dead and warm
across interstate ten just east of tonapah
those heroes that sat in the bushes
and gun downed allan berg
the racist baiting jew
those I do feel
revulsion
and I wonder at those who find
Bushco's capitalism so abhorent
but
one hundred fifty bucks
that makes ten thousand
is cool
screw the needle and the damage done
if you ever feel sorrow for the things that you have done
at alamo mission
you can kneel and pray
to the holy ghost and the virgin mother
to heal us
Ah Zen
no god/god
god is not personal
Christ is a metaphor
conotation/denotation
gravity waves rocking me to sleep
in the bossom of abraham
but I wonder where did she find that y
to go with her x
don't mean nothing
just a miracle
move on

bits of inspiration
grow like crystals
from coal
out of this
garden
of masked aggression
willfully
imprisoned
but entrapment is
illegal..
my trip
my symbiot
311 and cooking oil
to what degree
shall i retrieve
this information lost..

From Publishers Weekly
about how many like them there may be in the country who hate blacks, Jews, leftists, homosexuals, Hispanics and other minorities with enough vehemence to commit murder. Photos not seen by PW. 50,000 first printing.
Copyright 1987 Reed Business Information, Inc
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/de ... 2?v=glance

trucking teaches a body how to sleep fast
but sometimes scribling is as good as sleep
not to interupt the flow of your inspiration
just a jagged shard of glass that woke me
carry on amigo
let it flow
*********

If you ever feel sorrow for the deeds you have done
With no hope for tomorrow in the setting of the sun
And the ocean is howling for the things that might have been
And that last good morning sunrise will be the brightest you've ever seen
In the moonlight, in the midnight, in the moonlight, midnight, moonlight

it is not the glass
it is his stupid young ass
my vanity like a sheet of black ice
around a blind curve on Soldier's Summit
why do I think I can spare him anything
the sorrow for his trashed childhood
he is a man, a better man then I was at twenty one
and I had it easy
back in a time when we did not eat our young
I listen to him, I try to listen to him, at that speed it is hard to make out the words
more like a screech
a miracle I say
when I think I know it will end bad\
to know that I don't know
his parents are right out of Bye Bye Birdy
they sing,
kids why can't they be like we were, perfect in every way
Rose's daughter
I can only say
It is fortunate that her daughter had a son
not a daughter
son's are easy
what is the worse that can happen to a son
this lining up words like this is a poor excuse for punctuation
but that is how they march out of my fingers
another jagged piece of glass woke me
gimme a miracle just one fucking little miracle
give the strength to remain silent
and the words to turn him around
the love
compassion
to make him realize
u can run but u can't hide
the chicken always sees

cockadoodledoo
you didn't get much sleep
did you
wake up tired and wired
hunt and scratching
pecking out in the barnyard
eating shards of glass like
suicidal sylvia
no path no plath
she said goodbye
as a proposition as
an oracle of her demise
lament her style

me i am a survivor
i saw more tragedy and comedy in one year
than she had in one tear
why bother living when
dying's so compelling

all the lost poets
using their bullets
signing stanzas
with pain and suffering

gimme a miracle just one fucking little miracle

how is it that i have learned
bliss in this absurd hole we call
planet earth

not like lady bird's
progeny that old
burning Barbara Bush
she said "shush"
not wanting to soil her panties
with news of dead soldiers

oh no
oy vey
da jews run away with talent
they sang their way back from
the bad

soupy sales
sold me

the holy grail and the fool
what else is there for mankind
a woman is more balanced
deeper in feeling

postmodern neander tal
meandering new berzerkers
werkers of the werlde unite

la gente unidas
no más serán comidas

a village boy
hitlerian youth
hiked exercised learned cross country orienteering
watched as they burned books
stole two home from the bad fire\/\/\/
(two plays by norwegian wordwrite)
oh then he was a radio operator
soon a stuka pilot dive bombing
the luftwaffe wings proud handsome
he never wore a seat belt
crashed in the crimea in winter
his bombardier was atomized
seatbelt rapid decelleration braking breaking
but him the boy luftwaffe pilot from the village
who'd saved two book by ibsen
was saved by his superstition
and swept softly the snow
a soft breaking his jaw and rib
waiting suspended aingst
deconstructed near death
wandering nomads with horses and
cattle found him
they were olden folk not rational fascists
not rational communists
not rational capitalists
pre-modern wanderers
by birthrite and fortune
their natural way to rescue
they wrapped him in furs packed
packed with warm animal fat
fat became wax fur became felt
bomber pilot became a sculptor
transformational journey
warmed by caring nomads

energy plan for the western man
buoyed by beuys
joseph the boy who saved books from a fire
The Ibsen quote of today
"To be one's self is to kill one's self. / I doubt if that answer means anything to you. / So we'll put it this way: to show unmistakably / The Master's intention whatever you're doing."
- Buttonmoulder in Peer Gynt (Act 5

the wandering tatars
like tigers
their natural habitat
lasted long enough
for one last act of grace.

got home last nite
wired and fired and tired
more miricles wonders werked
then a wine reefer euphoria

i'm now on vacation.
you have to to to word jam
with the jammers you got
happy voidmass
happy madness
mad happiness
in the void

from some of the dharma kerouak's
word jam he writ

"In a straw hat
I listened to the musicians
Shaded from the sun---
Thoughts fixed on brilliance
I got deaf--
Night fall
They folded up their guitars."

He boozed it up too much.
Now we got tapes
self hipnoses
how to drink in moderation
my new years resolution
slow down an get more done.
i could've walked to his house
the gate in his back yard is unlocked
his last car in the garage
parked waiting for dave the dov
to take it away. it's dave's car now
but dave's not here.

we gonna take jack's chevy some day take it away!

ads! buy!
do you love to be cool?
ads! buy!

turn away from the blow
the white snow
re-wind the reel

when times were measured in growth
and moons told us when
before electrical waves
implanted chips in movement

a trace on a voice
a bug in a wall
a turn to subvert

give me planets
where images
weight and mass
wait thought
hold space

re-member race
parts and joints
congeal into how we once were

all of us claim decendancy
we were all in paradise
make no mistake

what we yearn for
is not so very far
we walked once
we'll walk again

it's a miracle
jim judih jim
sandwich 3:20

holy, holy, holy

3 x 2 = 6

six is six

(eureka!)
ibsen and goethe knew what was

goethe quote (anemone knows this one, as does whimisical and soo):
"if i knew myself, i'd run the other way"

if i really knew,
i'd run
i'd hide
i'd be the chicken
on the other side

on the road
tripping as fast
as chicken feet could go

if i knew myself
i'd laugh the other way
the way where laughter implodes
and becomes an icon sapphire
a jewel to bless the entrance of a cave

if i knew,
that is

the magic of an edit button
what was once twice
is now back to once

(yet i'll always recall)

awake awake
kibbitzing
with a
kibbutznik
i'd like to kiss her
just a nick
a little smack
kiss a kibbitzing kibbutznik

3:30 is 9:30

if i knew myself
i'd stay in the way
narcissus was looking for himself
tho he didn't know it

jewels in the cave
diamonds in the rough
don't act tough
cut on through

no eyes no ears no nose no tongue no bawdy no mind
no color no sound no scent no savoir no flesh no realmofeyes
an so forth until no realm of mind consciousness.

no suffering no origination no stopping no path no cognition
also no attainment with nothing to attain

cross on over to da other side
gone gone gone beyond

what does it mean?
have a cup of coffee.
smoke a hit. it's your vacation.
i ain't buying much for consumer holydaze this year
a water bong for brian.
fireplace screen for suzie.
voidmass tree.
mexican palms for the yard.
holy daze.

when the emperor wears no clothes
we'll know that we've reached the next dimension

rejoice

grass an oz ain't enough to last about two days
twenty one and macho tough
trying to figure out how to be a man
now glass there is a macho drug
most of all be cool
sound cool
look cool
a pound of grease to get that hair right
truckers wallet with a chain
tight shirts with a nipple ring
swastika tatoo on half a jew
circled in red with a red line through it
got to make a statement
hey world look at me
a shooting a star

I wish he could be on a kibbutz
he has too many friends
who are no friends at all
talk about a miracle
"a shut in without a home"
I bought him a refrigerator for Chanuka
I wish I could buy him
confidence
to be a man
not try to act like one
yeah he looks right
acts dumb
sSddhartha's dad was no help
what is an uncle to do