Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Well put. Not many have even heard of Tecumseh and his brother Prophet. Often I have said that "civilization" is an oxymoron. The "white" man also began the civilized practice of scalping--paying bounties for Indian hair, and of giving "enemy" tribes blankets infected with smallpox. So much for civi...

Brutal, but that's the male . Scene borders on rape, or was it consensual? Or does one have a choice. Or is that just the way it is? And isn't that what poetry is supposed to show us? jim

Rainstorms scratch at his window, feeling for cracks– the thinnest wide enough One will find a way. Why does he bother, on his notebook’s final page, with vowels, verbs, rhymes? His yellow pencil’s dulled stub, too short to sharpen one more time. Did he not see the flame of his last candle tremble a...

Carlos would be about like dwellers in neon-bright cities trying to look at stars. A charming story you tell, as usual. And, by the way, before I forget, Happy New Year. jim

Unless you walk in frostbite country, on burning coals, or cutting edges, shoeless goes better. You can hear your feet sigh...Freed from prison toes play childhood games. And soles! Aah! The soles! In warm sand or cool mud, finally, your soles come alive! Drive seashoreward on summery days, you wil...

When I was young and full of pep I gave our local fillies quite a rep. Those wild oats sown tarnished my own with promising promises, unkept. Then she showed up, this rarest lass, with dreamed-of charms and peerless class. She broke my guard and I fell hard. She puddled my playful heart to glass. Si...

Hey, Man! Open the wind- ow! Bumped my nose on glass! My best part, can send me flying–bet your ass that’s how I feel when my ears flap till I wouldn’t hear a bomb and my soulful eyes drip tears You remember Fatso Dumb- oh–pachydermic bumblebee– who couldn’t fly but did? Watched him, we did, on teev...

Not being a Scot I never knew which was better, the inside or the outside of a sheep, Chicken is another critter, whose gizzards, hearts, and livers I enjoy, but they weren't stuffed in its tummy. Ain't it great we can sometimes have funs with po'ms? jim

I thank both of you for reading and commenting. And, Sue, I do not tease pacific creatures--especially the one called human--because I have learned that their reaction is unpredictable. I remember being warned: If you think you know what a bear will do next you know more than the bear does. For othe...

Do you think he warbles for the joy of wings? Was given that throat to please a human ear? There lurks in his song an undertone, dark and perilous to those who dare too near. Hawks learn to shun the singer’s nest. The greatest poet cannot find words– sounds–as malign as the warbler’s song. I touched...

Now you have me wondering, Has Dad already been there?

You fooled me. I thought at first it was that "father-son" time to talk about the facts of life, and remembered the Zits comic when Jeremy's dad took him out for that "talk," and Jeremy said, "OK, Dad, what do you want to know?" Jim

More than one way to see this. If the observer moves the moon will stray through branches. If the observer remains still, those big magnolias can appear to be small moons. Witchery. jim

When I scrolled down to post a reply, off to the left was a picture of a stream flowing between huge boulders. Why did I think, There is Doreen's stream of consciousness? I'll have to look at that a while. jim

A new and wonderful voice. I am unsure that any of me has read all of your poem, but you can be sure I will read it again. Jim

I presume you know that your readers cannot "enjoy" this poem. Although, and you need to be told, it is a poem. jim