Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Trust me brothers and sisters my interpretations are unique, complex, hell I can walk on water a little myself, you know, got connections to the right people, the front office upstairs, that a poor wretch like you can only dream of. I too was a miserable sinner and when I was in the depths of despai...

a potent slice of life, like a scene from a movie...rife with honesty...
expressing the frustrations of relationships that we are drawn to like attracting magnets...then one day someone reverses the polarity...
and we set off with our memories and questions to cycle 'round again..

I like the erogenous zones too...it's the only thing that really makes sense to me most days after watching the morning news...
a wild spin through the universe into a zone you didn't mention...
The Twilight Zone....

thanx hester...always good to hear from ya.........

"we carry your world on our backs"...really sums it up, dino...
the working class creates all the wealth, but in ends up in a tiny
percentage of pockets....maybe our voice could be better heard
if we shut this country down.......nice work

Remember Neetsfoot Oil....i think that was it...we'd rub that stuff into
the glove then put a baseball in the pocket and rubberband it, and leave it over night.....of course scott, your poem isn't about baseball
at all ....but you're right, there's something about that leather.

The Block, was one of the creepiest places I have ever visited, it still freaks me out....somehow it became the place to go for bachelor parties...so I was thrown into the alternative universe of it's degradation....there was a time apparently, before my time, when the greatest strippers in the worl...

seems like a place I'd like to visit, john....how do I get there?
beautiful sentiment with real conservation...quite a skill.......

thanx perdida, dino, mnaz......yeah mnaz those guys are in the
Criminals Hall of Shame......thanx for checking in

Too bad nerds weren't hip when I was sixteen, today they're cool, back then no one thought my dorkiness was mysterious, no one thought I was complex, they just teased the shit out of me. Kids can be cruel in tenth grade, they picked on me unmercifully, I didn't fit in....today my hand-me-downs would...

time is a thief in the night, let me know if you ever grab him.....
if we keep having wars, we just might not have enough time to pack
for our journey into space to find a new home.........well done

thanx westie...yea sometimes it's better to keep the trap shut...
doreen...people tend to be carrying a lot of baggage, so you better be
ready when you ask that question....boy do I know, I'm a mailman..
thanx for your feedback.....mtmynd , thanx for checking in...

When I noticed the wide-eyed stares, the scrunched-up faces, it dawned on me... people really don't want the truth when they ask, "Hey, How's it going?" You should never say that your asshole boss has been harassing you for ten months and you fantasize three or four times a day about slicing off his...

one is fortunate to find a soulmate is this place we call life, and your poem speaks to this phenomenon, that there is someone out there with similar feelings.....unforced use of rhyme moves this along nicely.. I have a poem somewhere about, On the Road...I'll see if I can find it nice read, and wel...

thanx so much westie, you are obviously a woman of good taste...
wink........smilesssssssssssssssssssss.......peace.........steve