Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

is lying permitted
when no damn money is found
in hungry pockets

Post Cards are / were the haiku of letter writing, I think. Once in a while, I do send one…sometimes just to my wife…just to get that rush of yesteryear.

68degrees

Thanks for the comments about the title

We stood
on night grass,
your right hand
atop my shoulder;
you took off
one sandal,
leaned lithely
against me
as softly as
when November
snow falls
like the music
of saying your name

Your dark chocolate
purchased with lovely intent
sweet fingers will lick

"...the air as delicious as food." Ain't it the truth. I was a bartender through college…when I closed to clean up I always opened a side window behind the counter. There was a bakery down the block that would be baking its bread, rolls, etc. for the next morning. It was heaven. Nice poem. 68degrees

"puddles in the driveway shivering" is a great line. The image of the woodpecker getting mugged gave me a snort (I was drinking coffee). Don't mind your editorializing...a bit "judgmental"...goes both ways, I guess. Was wondering why you were there listening to the sermon. A waste of your time, I wo...

pencil with two ends
one to write and one to wrong
even words will bleed

When you are new born you live to be touched, to swaddle and sleep in warm cotton blankets, to suckle breast milk from puckered nipples; sidewalks lead to distant continents, streets are gold pavers of childhood eternity and parental dreams You are carried from rooms, fed from spoons, held by soft h...

One of my favorite Robin Williams movie is his first, "Moscow on the Hudson" in which he plays a Russian sax player from a circus trying to defect to America. Great flick. Great music. The sax is the sexiest sounding horn on the planet or the loneliest. Moody, for sure. Loved the poem. 68degrees

I see a young woman traveling in the glass reflection of the Metro; her face is the sexual face I’ve always wanted yet at each stop she becomes a different woman; her hands hold rosary beads like fragile bird eggs; she might be remembering what she responded last evening when he asked her how lucky ...

The only way to be. At least that's what I've heard.

68degrees

the cold is out there
waiting for the weak of heart
love is not the same

revolutionR I stopped counting at 20 questions :) I'm not sure the internet has "helped" poetry. It has made poetry that much more accessible to the common man but it has also allowed the common man who is not a poet to think he is. Can everyone be a poet? Maybe. Can everyone play basketball? I doub...

68degrees

What makes him him? His words / thoughts. Emphasis on "his"

smiles in voices
few and far between these days
pity the lonely