Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

It's a matter of purpose
to make light or to save candles?
to rage rage or go gentle into that good night?
or will life bludgeon your agenda?

this is the purpose of paper boats
they rise to the top on the sea of chance
light and buoyant they glance
over the shoulder of circumstance

if I was sure, I wouldn't be saying this
we can talk ourselves into anything
eloquence and repetition
eloquence and repetition
the purpose of poetry

i thought the purpose was breathing,
i don't know why
maybe because
if i don't do it, i'll die

it's the pulse of the verse
from a metronome wrist
that keeps the pen moving

whether it be harsh, confused
or soothing

thanks for the reminder
sometimes i miss knowing it or seeing

the dumb get dumber, the blind
get blinder, but then a poem
comes into being

-------
(notice all the I-N-G words in my reply?
does this make it a lousy verse or a greater?
I think not, and I'll tell you why but
i'll have to tell you later)



.......

enjoyed your poem, Lightning Rod

It's a matter of purpose
to make light or to save candles?

good point, I mean great lines, interesting question!!!!

pause/continuation in breath, yeah.

Simone, Dylan & I bow to the poems!!!!!!!!!!

"eloquence and repetition
eloquence and repetition
the purpose of poetry"

i'm fond of that
i'm fond of that
poetically harmonious

how the hell are u clay????
like your poetic subjects
pause to wonder by the
cosmic cyber flow............

well good point & good mornin',Lightning...at the same time my chipmonks are missing in action...its the old equation, one pile of black oil sunflower seeds placed atop the covered well = chipmonks come to call...critters of opportunity these little guys & their life is constant war from birth to death but they live it with a warrior's grace & humor & zing and they make me laugh...but i ain't seen 'em for several days now & the seeds i put out for them get eaten by the bluejays squirrels & raccoons...i know the hawks & weasels & snakes have legal claim on these little guys but...God bless it...its just trouble ya know...ya start feeding them & watching them & learn to distinguish one from another next thing ya know they are "your" chipmonks & you are in love & ya get worried & anxious and begin having stupid notions like they all are in their burrows giving birth to more chipmonks is why ya ain't seeing 'em and they will be back...but that kind of thinking quit amusing me a long time ago because once ya know where it's at ya always know where its at...God bless it...i'm missing them...and if they were here right now i know they would read your piece too and tell you "Now that's some jazz,Lightning!"

doreen, I'm enjoyING your poem too, nice

yeah arcadia, I'm more of a light kinda guy than a saving one

thank you cec
thank you cec

wired, well, I've seen better days but so have we all

mingo, when I was about 10 years old, I tried for two days to catch a chipmonk. No luck. So, I got a hamster. Then I got another hamster. Then before I knew it I had 16 hamsters. They all enjoyed my poetry too.

that last image shreds my verse, l-rod

judih wrote:that last image shreds my verse, l-rod

damn judih, what a great line and a great compliment!

it shivvers me timbers

ha! welcome to the electric circus

Indeed sir, I must repeat....
with exclaim!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and eloquent tassels,,,,,,,
You are a helluva good writer LRod.

Really dug this.
H