Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Gentlemen, let us talk kindly
of journeys and treks.
Let us not run neck-in-neck
to participate in bar room brawls.

iblieve wrote:ignorance plays out in feeble mind ramblings
attacking those that stay silent
until they meet on a dusty street
and I bitch slap you like the whore you are.
Little boys should be little boys
and not talk grown up talk
if their ignorance won't allow it
iblieve

men should not fuck themselves and be the bigger man, why let themselves drop like their balls never did!

doreen peri wrote:Gentlemen, let us talk kindly
of journeys and treks.
Let us not run neck-in-neck
to participate in bar room brawls.

doreen
donét let me anger you
i love this
it is free form greatness
just let it go and roll to what it might not ever be other wise..

What we passed up in Olympia

1.
We heard a man singing across the bar
But first we saw the pool tables
And as he wandered around and sang
We chose our sticks and I racked up
The tall drink of water in the cowboy hat
Sank some big ones and straightend up
Then he caught us at the jukebox
And sang into my ear "No fear
The grass is green and the mountains are stoned
It's the State of Washingstone!"
Johnny Cash answered for me, he shot a man in Reno just to watch him die
While I gathered my wits in Washingstone:
"Man made whiskey, God made pot
God's all-knowing -- man is not."
He spun away - all I was supposed to say was
"So - you have some stash?"

Jenni Mansfield Peal wrote:What we passed up in Olympia

1.
We heard a man singing across the bar
But first we saw the pool tables
And as he wandered around and sang
We chose our sticks and I racked up
The tall drink of water in the cowboy hat
Sank some big ones and straightend up
Then he caught us at the jukebox
And sang into my ear "No fear
The grass is green and the mountains are stoned
It's the State of Washingstone!"
Johnny Cash answered for me, he shot a man in Reno just to watch him die
While I gathered my wits in Washingstone:
"Man made whiskey, God made pot
God's all-knowing -- man is not."
He spun away - all I was supposed to say was
"So - you have some stash?"

no stash at all bu
teen stash that makes lisa simpson weak in the knees
aparent love for the demented men smart women have

i have to go so it is back
to the love and the
that stuff that real real poets love
and hate and have in thier souls
a bucket of it for
u2 and for those annoying bands that have too much of a feeling of self importance,

like me and ibelive have in our BULL SHIT!!!!

Axanderdeath wrote:i have to go so it is back
to the love and the
that stuff that real real poets love
and hate and have in thier souls
a bucket of it for
u2 and for those annoying bands that have too much of a feeling of self importance,

like me and ibelive have in our BULL SHIT!!!!

I have 2 min. left

Johnny Cash also taught the weeping willow how to cry
as outlawes and country mix and clash
while I sit their listening to David Allen Coe
sing of Longhaired Rednecks
hoping my hair hid mine
as she laughed with the cowboy in the corner
who needed a big drink of water
and maybe a bath .
He broke the stick across his knee
to beat the biker with the smart mouth.
I left the south
headed north to recover
the heat was hot the women deadly
and the drugs cost more than I could pay.

What I caught at DFW airport

1.
Just kidding

But

Oh, for One Mousy squeaker
Buddabitch, summon yourself and our Judih weaver
Beautiful Dutchess Doreen so glad you're here
And the the Lightning Rod (tho he's out for beer)
Ever dreaming, as I'm sure are they
(the music and poetry blow me away)
and still in the big broadband journey
where we're all vacated from each other.
Glad we know where the party room is.

Before you leave a word of wisdom my friend

Little boys shouldn't play with assholes, they might get shit on their fingers.
LMAO hope to se you soon little boy.

iblieve yes I admit I am an asshole.

you need some kind of music to travel
I wonder which was mine
now the city
two-daily-bus-hours to work
and to walk and reach almost all the places
made me more lazy, stupid and happy
but it´s just tonight

Song of the greedy traveler who sings eternally of one little principality:

I declare myself a sovereign state
With laws and rule I will uphold
All those who wish to deal with me
Must do so diplomatically



I admit I have an asshole.

I loved traveling down those gravel roads
dust swirling behind like a devil in the night
under southern moonlight
as the high was sweet
as the belle beside me
painting pictures of young lust
in anticipatory minds
finding the hide-a-way
to slay our passions with hard daggers
of inexperience .

The music was a heavy beat
breathing as the night grew short
and so did the strokes.
Stamina wasn’t lacking
in youthful delight
carelessly sought.
Lucky I, to have found the Trojan
strong as horses
and the southern night smells,
hot and sweet
like the back seat love
discovered on deserted gravel roads,
so long ago
memories fade to gray
like the streaks in my hair.

We used to have drag races on LBJ freeway
it was high school and the suburbs then
everyone asked
"why did they build a freeway here?"
fifteen minutes without seeing another car
that's why we drag raced there

now they have HOV lanes
and at midnight there are traffic jams
progress

Ms. Peal


My comments were not meant for you, though your poetry was good enough to play on and create my own, if this offended you I apologize and will abstain from further plays on your eloquent words but I thought that was the reason for the Jam to play and interact with words. The asshole comment was meant for the young kid who has been antagonist towards me since I came here. Any discomfort you felt from my words is regrettable and I apologize.

"C"