Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

sometimes the reality of the situation
hits me like a methedrine rush
my shoulders convulse
my throat closes
the body is a freudian punster
can't swallow this
world on his shoulders
symbols within cymbals
like an oracle
it's talking to me
from omphalos to omphalos
i shake my head, my back itches
i create, i carry my distractions
like a roll of lifesavers
one after another
cherry, lemon, orange, lime...
and back again
back to the beginning
an assortment of candy covered holes
that i suck on
that i whistle through
like a bone
when the marrow's gone

man, I really dig the way this is both jolly and macabre at the same time.
Intriguing.
Well done.
H

thanks hester. life is a trip!

this poem is great, dino.....it reminded me personally of the those days when i consider the time I pissed away involved in avoidance, the hours wasted satisfying hedonistic play that may have been spent nurturing myself and the world around me....but I've come to believe that ultimately it couldn't have been avoided, for whatever reason, that it's just a leg of the journey...and regrets detract from the new leg I'm currently traveling on.......hip descriptions brother d

now I need to go consider my belly button for a few hours....