Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The hush of the way loom mood, lo' fro and she was dressed nines a fabric over-lay and a densi dime shoe, lips parted in mys. He laughed the jokingly', his staircase legging in cold water dunks. The lazy afternoon on hums of pollen bees with backyard nestings the hives, their thoroughly epic picnic ...

With a bee hive in her mouth
she looked like the sun
in a hot desert
and all those hummings
going around her
the stir

I could taste her.

WOW! They go in there and take the breaks off.
Would be neat to see, but I don't knows if I'd want to be on the receiving end of that revving, ya knows! There's the fear, plenty of fear, but I do like to hop in most dark waters.
Please find me a swim instructor.

Where ya be being, Jack?

Chickabees and choosing to bees, they got house.

It's cold out there, isn't it? I'm in a blanket and wanting desert, big sky, big heat and warmed up all overs. I'll find out about that today and then some.

Mmm-ha!

Those vultures keep a plan, they are some hungry birds and they want to have their belly's fulled up on meats. I am glad to see them get moved off from me, ha ha. My heart's got it's lingerings in all the happiest. It is amazing, I didn't knows it was alive and then boom there it is. I think it's a ...

I'd dip down into that fish bowl and flop my fin with a wave, the mermaids and I. Maybe eat seaweed forevers, it's tough getting meats... neener :P I was downright mad last couple days, been ready to strangle all sorts, but today I saw sunlight come in the top corner, it warmed my face, the heavy th...

Neener Neener
nothing guy on me.

Hey those whales are bringing in big mouthfuls of rich sea water, the mermaids and all.

mmm good to enjoy food and talks. I cheers my glass clink to yours and say drink one with me, the sound of crickets outside, I am missing too. Of course as often as I often do, I have a crazy thought that what if I was wrong all along on who you were and now I'm thinking a lot of days that what if y...

A blue kite cluster disappearing into the blue blue of skies. Green bubbles float across the green of pond mosses buzz buzz dragon-fly-by. Orange marmalade southern comfort on ice-cubes, orange sunset for backdrop and I feel drunk. In yellow hair flights across face the sun's up and I see nothing, h...

It was cucumber fresh, the scent
the teach and mara darla
that sailed seven days to the dock
with sailors of whale
the rough seas
the wind glory.

It was Loridela, a tadpole of smallish scales, waisted stiffed bread, made luck, woke sun mornings and beating heart that heart not sure of where abouts and who-haves. I haves, but it was not so much of. There is that there is usually that. The pond it lived within went mucky green light and clutter...

Hello to you Steve. You'll find me buried under a pile of year's images of these items taking up a squat spot in my short time spaces. I am picking them up and placing them elsewhere. At times they're finding familiar faces to join, in a loving way and at other times they have a journey I don't know...

Knot in this thread
Hi Jack, Hi Mingo!

Just checking in before I go in the sky.
Wonder what birds think of that, made me wonderwhat a squirrel or bunny might think when you travel by them on your bikes. HaHa taking the image along with me. Their ears perk up, the beady eyes grow suns.

Latch on tight to me
for if you become to coerced nightly by
the mere wenches,
I might drop silently to the black sea

for then a whale can open it's giant mouth
I'll climb in and sail away
and not never knows your boat's name
against me.