Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. My last vagina was 52 years ago. Sometimes when I get lonely I go on Fakebook and look at her now. I never feel an urge to reach out to her. I am just grateful to see her smiling face and that she survived me. Survived our 3 ...

Write on brother, write the good fight. I need to read it ...my mind is a broken radio that tunes in to every thing I ever experienced heard or read. I write to squelch the static.. . with a distant mind she watched herself ... Mind vs. Body Theme Analysis At its essence, The Bell Jar is an explorat...

I keep thinking about that hello babies quote from old kurt and pretty girls make graves even in refugee camps where people are starving blows my mind the biological imperative is one hell of a cath 22 . Mother nature is a bitch with an ice pick when it comes to survival. It don't care about quality...

little sisters
thank heaven for them

Trying to remember what year Thanksgiving fell on November 22nd which was the day one ex-marine with a rifle changed the f****** world and my rose of San Antone laying on her deathbed looking into a mirror as I sat there and listened to her death rattle but I don't want to go into all that David Cop...

saw rote : I don't feel like myself Post by saw » October 31st, 2021, 12:59 pm every day I lose a little part of myself, awaken to a new me with fewer parts.... and I can truly say most mornings .....that I don't feel like myself I lost a lot of me to facebook :twisted: john prine wrote: There were...

studio eightdream again last night about Kerouac"s sweatshirt and spontaneous prose look mom no carriage returns if this is poetry I'll eat my fart pillow its just what I do gotta due gots ta do whata doodle do sleep with goggles on after eye surgery I gots lots of drugs still caffein illuminates my...

dream of mark's last meal 130am hamburger and fries 1949 green Plymouth comvertible fairfield virginia surgery in 6 hours Your connection is not secure The owner of www.studioeight.tv has configured their website improperly. To protect your information from being stolen, Firefox has not connected to...

I am a stranger to myself
to mine own self to be true
I lean on a small circle of freinds
life is good for me these withering days

pardon my

sin, cynicism and despair

A Disease Called Man

Never knew dino or wireman but I cherish their work
I guess I think of them as silicon based Pips
—friendship is practically a religion for me
thanks for taking up the slack

baby sister/big sister wrote:

while he's dying
another land re-births
energy cycle

life cycles
heart beats
he writes of a neolithic childhood

corona jam hanging on by thread and so am i
but i hardly know the difference
from where I was before it
frozen in amber under a bell jar in a bubble of warped time
text box escape hatch gets me through the ennui image source

thanks

political music to my ears. thanks for the poem,

that line by mingo gives me the chills the Heebie Jeebies
how many times have i misspelled the name Cassady?
He knew time, knew what time it is,
he knew hindsight
he knew it was too late