Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

"Will you see the stars tonight? Will you come outside & look at them with me"?
There's a fresh breeze... Turtle doves have taken to the airs. Look, there go some albino crows. A large star rises in the east. The darkness is punctuated with prisms of light...
Oh great holy night...

blinded by the refraction of the reflections
from diamond prism poetry

Blinded by the Light - Metaphors of Truth and Reality

"hey, I see things as they really are"
sounds today as a bad joke
even said by me ...

the ironist's vanity

who can live without illusions

everything so black and white

mama don't take my kodachrome away

it is a wonderful world

maybe even the best of all worlds

seen through my rose colored diamond sun glasses

nobody is dying to make the world safe for democracy

anymore

the war is over

your peace dividend is in the mail

everything is bongo in the congo

the children are all safe

I wish I knew my vanity makes me write this crap

puffed up with my own understanding
busy waiting for death
if not for this I would be free of
bad jokes and bitter laughter
a fool looks at eighty
it is so cold here
when every word counts against me
cut me loose let me fly
away to my home sweet home
somewhere over the rainbow

irony is not for sissies I suppose
life goes on
love is all there is


"it is love and love alone the world is seeking"

I'd like to join the children.

"it is love and love alone the world is seeking"

if not for children
I would be long gone
children are love

Sometimes I think that if not for my sense of humor I could not have survived to such a ripe old age.

I like this version of the song better

humour! anger! joy!
without emotion
life is pfft dry

i drown, i flood,
i walk along beaches and hear whispers of rain in the dry summer heat.
moccasin moccasins make for great landslides into marine biology, that's why i always wear my helmet to the beach.
well, i say
said the app to the other app
what are you up to, chap
the app's chap chapped back,
i'm a chapping back app.
posterity, my fellow!
said the app to his chap.
all this chirping going about and i wonder what apps those Mayans
had. that's those shaman blues,
friend. Worrying about more than your shoulders' worth,
so important in the art that is spirit
Hope, strength, celebration, patience,
virtue-based deontologicology like it's an obsessed demonology,
that shining you.

The survival holiday jam, now..
The Now-Survival holiday
the Then-Bells and what may,
What-May.

the bell tolls
life goes on for the survivors
us things called alive
Each death diminishes us

































Is youth to waste its strength unlocking the grip of death? Is youth's only mission on earth to rebel, destroy, to assassinate? Is youth only to be offered up to sacrifice? What of the dreams of youth? Are they always to be regarded as follies? Are they to be populated only with chimeras?...Stifle or deform youth's dreams and you destroy the creator. Where there has been no real youth there can be no real manhood. Time of The Assassins

above all
life offers glimpses of what we hope is true
in winks of encouragement

Truth of the mind
As crazy as it seems
Dark and light