Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

wounded, worded, and feathered - where will we live?

we sing of madness, and of silence's spell
on words and verbal love

and NOTHING is just a word
in a mousetrap.


... thanks, you three!!

remnds me (in both subject and flow) of this one i wrote a few years ago: vogelfrei vogelfrei (literally: free as bird; historically: outlawed, considered fair game) to be air or an ashen streak of flight or be silt: i am outlawed, free as a bird. i'm a scarecrow made of doves, i am my own flock of ...

if i was that close to rosario i would ask arcadia for a visit :idea: i did!!! of course i did. and we met, even though she had to travel quite a bit! read & see about it here, if ya wanna: http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=15631 http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3607/3306482766_50e8aeb5...

forget numeration.
ignore digits, numbers, summation.
count your blessings!

-------------

learn.
forget.
sea!

encounter across the counter, talking about time... leisure time and busy time, time past and time required, long time, set time, short time, absolute time; time taken and matter of time. clan time, shirt time, heather time, moor time, thyme time.... time time time. more! waiting for the summertime....

breezes breathe lightly
winged whisper faster than time
windflowers dreaming

heaven and hell or ivory and ebony or yin and yang or salt and pepper or milky way and black hole or ice and ash or gull and crow or monk and ninja or valkoinen and musta or milkshake and blackpudding or bride and groom or prism and punk or moby dick and black widow ......................... ..........

(written around 2001 on the litkicks boards - cecil's "just you wait and see" thread made me remember and look for it in my files) words bound to the world and torn away from the breath and voice, words your unfathomable hope ark over a thousand floods abundance of your voice, breath forgetting the ...

the mind's perpetual
barking at the stranger

i like that!

the poet wanders dazed
walks towards the northern gate
towards the opening

he knows nothing

he begins to write the book of all
he wakes now to write
the book of dawn

it sure does!

thanks, you two!

it is said that
a poet is one who
joins together
words

this is not right

a poet is one who
is passably
fit together
by words

if he is lucky

if he's not

words
tear him
apart

ha ha ha ha!

now it's back.
complete with my intelligent reply.

i think i am trippin'....

i'm totally confused. i replied to your part II story, clicked the post button, then s8 hung somehow; i clicked again and foudn that my reply had accidentally been posted twice. so i went to delete the second reply - i hit the delete button, then s8 hung again; i clicked again, it still hung, and i ...