Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Madman
lámina negra de la noche
.
love, lust
on floors of Mesopotamian temples
pyramids hide the moon
from the sight
bruised not, she cries not
.
hot heart
drops of silhouette
wander empty walls
choking stormy archipelagoes
from our eyes
.
King of stones
empty is empty it dissolves
helter-skelter up the staircase
to sulk in the attic
solo
.
bells peel in babbles
blue seas swell
we dabble, hot heart
we draw conclusions
and gather the honey of volcanoes


~ * ~

sophisticated and polished. i will get back to you on this. beautiful.

thank you i stayed up very late one night to write this after having read Neruda. enraptured, possessed i had to write!

enraptured and possessed,
seems the only authentic way to write.
('tho i've run into resistance and deadlines on this point).

*lol*

qué hermoso poema, westcoast!!!!!!!! bienvenida!!!!!!

gracias, amiga

~westcoast

"bells peel in babbles".....!!!

this whole thing is a joy to read....
H

thank you, hester! much appreciated to know you enjoyed

~westcoast

I couldn't help but like this
but I think I was reading Bukowski when you were reading Neruda...haha

ooooooh, i'll have to write about my Buk fetish

lol..

~scarlett W

I can't decide if my hero is Whitman or Bukowski

would I rather be an old queer or an old drunk?

*lol*

surely there are role models out there?!

The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind. (Humphrey Bogart)

you can call me anything you want
but don't call me a few drinks behind
(I start early)

keep that gadong-a-dong-dong-DONG goin on!