Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

when looking into her eyes
i become her silent witness
the spectral crib of childhood
the undercover desires,
with the wisdom of fear
all animals conceal pain
it is food for the predator
blood trails of a jungle trek
the telling moments that define
the furnace and fury of her art
the orchid's loam
when looking into her eyes,
i see the evidence of things unseen
and my faith is restored

Hey what the hell makes you think you can just come in here and rant and rage all over the place ? You facebook bully! Jus' kiddin' Dino. Good run. Your line "the spectral crib of childhood" made me want to walk out the door to block stack and cut wood. o i feel my poverty i feel my poverty!
Thx Dino.
remember Mongolia !
Fuck yeah !

thanks mingo. i do so like being a bully boy. depositing my aggression on the unaware and unsuspecting has been quite the tonic - like mother's milk to me.

Is this where I hold up a sign?




~A

You guys are crackin' me up here! Sparkle on the Monkey Train!
Fuck yeah, Mongolia !
Hell yeah ~A hold up that sign! Hold it high! Wave it around! Dance! O Please!

...And up - WAY UP - with mother's milk! O God I just love it to death!

Constantine, this poem makes me homesick for the Grand Tetons in Wyoming...What happened in "Mongolia"? Might make interesting readings...

mongolia and the grand tetons, my poem appears to be evocative in unpredictable ways. never would i have imagined these developments - but, it's cool nonetheless! thanks guys

the poem speaks to me of the resilience of mother earth, but I suppose it could be a girlfriend just as well.....in any case, the restoration of faith prevails....how goezit in O-high-O, Doctor D ?

ahh, i see what you mean. i'm doing ok, but it's wearing thin. can't wait to come home.