Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

what's the real point
writing to a dead person
seems rather foolish

normalcy we cry
we pray to live humble lives
bring her home to us

Peace to Judih and family. I am sorry to hear all this.

under your soul time beats
life anointed with sorrow
day-after-day we pray

she still sings same songs
for kiss given years ago,
listen carefully

more mosh than manic
another shit poem on board
more than wasted words

raining like hell now
not as hot as one might think,
maybe one doesn't

Friday Octave

near the shore He stood,
one hundred fifty three fish
caught for salvation

Thanks.

Other side of what? ...and what are the sides?

the waitress returns, asks if you are finished, is surprised by your face-to-face emptiness, her hands, no ring, red-chapped, a last drop of condensation on the water glass twitches, lingers, an unbroken slide— a delicate capsule of time, so you nod, want to ask her about the ravaged beggar across t...

ego is evil
evil speaks to empty souls
duo threat of sin

another end year
blizzard on the horizon
same old, yet same new

November replies
with the first snow of winter
you shudder again

I am still around
seeing the poor poetry
written upon earth

You climb up my tree
shake all the major branches
to see what flies out

woke up three am
thought I heard snow on window
by morning all white