Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

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this iron cross i bLeed i birth 3 russian dolls each one smaller than the next & nOthing left. wait! go back. what is thiS? a bleeding bLack rosarch rose? bloody mAry? madonna in the headlights? light a candle. light a thousaNd more. i pray. i pay for giant boxes of curse this cotton rocket on a string

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[3 vials? really? didn't think there was any left. i see stArs. so pretty. so faR…]

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add 4 years of noT enough, 6 months of tWo much and 2 dark spots on a funnY white blob. X marks the spot. look! it's right there on the screen. but all i see is blood. and stars. the dog was ripped apart & rolled in diRt and anti freeze. little rivers of blood fLow through my soul, my hopes, my heaRt. oh child! where are you? i spew rose petal paths to your heart but all i taste is blood. mirror mirror on the wall…who's the palest of them all? there's a porcelain crack running through my smile. what is this rock oildrum'd to my heart? and whose children are these running over my ears poKing needles in my i staring back at me? and mirror mirror, wHy aren't i? sleeping beauty ciNderella @ the ball or little rEd riding hood with cape & white picket fence & one and a half child. oh child…oH half child! & why is it so dark inside this hershey bar? light another candle. add some firefLies

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[pictures of angelic babies in white halls. so many halls & chairs & yet aNother happy nurse with bears on her shirt]

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because july juSt swallows me wHole, chews me to a stiCky mess and spits me out in puLp fiction where everything's surreal like cartoonville from a swing and nothiNg fits inside the glass slipper in my lies. this is nOt me. this is what i become eVery july & i fiNally figured out why i'm like a headless butterfly on coKe & mentos fluttering in & out of the fairy the bitch the fAiry the bitch…

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paper dreSs
wide spread legs
an army of eyes with poKing sticks

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edison winked @ me in the shower. heLLo! of course! it's july agaiN & 4 years of maybe thiS month…or maybe i'm just delirious from all that bLood flushed down the toilet. silly mE

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[eXcuse the dress uNdress the noT just a pinch the oNe more test and come bAck in 3 weeks]

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okay...let me know if this one's too dark/crazy/vulnerable/long/ugly/boring or all of the above, because it got moved from another site for...i still don't know why. i just need some honest feedback on it, so i'm squeezing my eyes shut and taking this risk.

raw, honest, expressive, confessional, agony and hope... that's what i pick up so far.

hey, i won't negate you or this... it's what it is, mj.

write on, friend.

charming narrative, SG

but
my Enigma machine was sputtering
I must ask you
Is there something wrong with the caps key on your keyboard?

or is this a code so arcane that neither I nor the Enigma can decipher it?

if this is autobiographical, i hope you are alright .....the poem freaked me out a little having spent so much time in the hospital with 2 kids
that needed to be treated for leukemia...about 5 years of hospital
time, nurses with with little bears on their smocks, etc.

this sounds like a check-up for cervical cancer that's in remission, but I could totally be out in left field, influenced by past experience....

in any case, this is powerful writing that conveys emotion without being melodramatic ....

best of life to you, either way....poems can be misleading to each
reader or clear as a bell......take care and keep writing...peace

Steve

thanks for the feedback guys. much appreciated.

cecil...all of the above. & thanks for the encouragement

LRod...nope, it's just a silly thing i do to make my poetry unique...& it wakes the reader up when reading a whole poem/paragraph in lower caps with no or little punctuation. just like when you put a question mark in the middle of the sentence. hint, i usually do that with words that i want to "say a little louder"...if that makes any sense at all (and i'm hearing you say "she's a little coocoo, this one" )

saw/steve...sorry for the freak out and i truly hope your kids are healed. in my case they're doing a series of tests on one hand for infertility and on the other for bleeding overtime which may be polyps in my uterus. they'll be confirming that tomorrow and deciding on treatment. of course there is a chance that the growths can be cancerous. but i'm hoping they're not and hopefully the treatment will solve all the rest too. thanks for your positive feedback. it's doubly appreciated.

I like drop-writing, beautifully textured emotions, smilegrl!

& besos & a candle for you!

i read this in work but there was no worry of missing my train this time, so no apology needed

"cotton rocket on a string" really amused me.

i admire your ability to write like this, mj. intellects will probably tell you differently but i think the only thing the artist has to share is himself/herself. and you've shared yourself here.

dark - possibly (except that little quote up there which amused me)
crazy - like life? well, yes.
vulnerable - fuck yes! and all the more beautiful for it. vulnerable in the hospital with the "paper dreSs/ wide spread legs/ an army of eyes with poking sticks" (I typed the "S" because it was there and I tend to "read" your capitalised letters), vulnerable for having whatever it is that causes this condition, vulnerable for being an artist sharing herself... offering your own vulnerability up is a bold and heroic act.
long - not overly long so as to bore me
ugly - no
boring - no
all of the above - no

moved from the other site. you little rebel!

arcadia...i'm not familiar with the term drop-writing...as in dropping "bombs" or lines in between verses...or...pls tell me more. and thank you for the candle. very much!

bennie...such a rebel i am and thank yOu for all that...i feel like this response is too short, but pls know it's heavy with so many thoughts and emotions hidden between the letters like a rainbow inside a raindrop...

Une femme saigne. Soyez bien, cher. Guérissez.

Odette

odette...yes, we do. thanks for the well wishes.

(ps. no, i don't speak french. i used yahoo's translator site babelfish...) wish i could though...

merci

SmileGrl...yes both kids are great, my daughter had a bone marrow transplant and my youngest son was the donor....she's pissed, 'cause she now has his blood type, as well as male chromesones...it's true.....just kidding about the pissed part.....keep us posted about
your difficulties....an amazing write given your circumstances.......
Peace and Good Health......steve

smilegrl: no, I didn´t think in a bomb exactly more in drop as gota (the points, the capitals as expanded letras when you drop water, the blood, the emotions, the space). Nevertheless, I searched in the S & S for all drop-meanings, thanks!

thank you both.

steve...they confirmed that there are two polyps (non cancerous) in my uterus which they will remove oct/nov and that should clear up most of the troubles. thanks for caring. and ps. i'm truly glad that your daughter is healthy again. i can just see her being annoyed by the brother inside her part...

and arcadia...when i said bombs i didn't mean it literally...more like personal bombs. but i like your reason for saying it's drop-writing. very clever.

just a needle full of saltwater
and a little pinch, she says
and look the worst is over

then it gets so much worse

and she wipes off the blood

wipes off the blood

wipes off the blood

under the scrutiny
of 3 pairs of eyes
invading my inner thighs
i force a brave face
and politely say thanks
because they found
what they were looking for

and there are worse things than this
(much worse)

but i let the tears roll down my face
in the car back home
because i've never felt
so vulnerable before

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vulnerability feels so much worse when you've no one to share it with. whether that person eases it with a joke or a kiss or a smile or a soft stroke of the backs of fingers against a tear-moistened cheekbone gentle. if that person drinks the tears from their fingers they can share it with you. i don't know. sorry. i'm trying to be poetic here but all i really want to say is that i hope everything is okay come october/november.

cars are strange things. i think my car makes me invisible. big loud singing face, soggy tears falling face, stupid face pulling in the rear view mirror... no one outside of my car can see these things. can they? i know there's almost 360 degrees of glass around me... but... it's magic glass, right?...

sorry again. trying to be poetic and trying to be funny. those are the only two things i can do in any serious situation. i'd be terrible in a warzone.