Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

stop it now! stop that staring
you know it's not right or even
possible to see thru concrete...
who do you think you are,
some kinda superhero with
a cape that will make you invisible
and eyes that pierce to the essence
all things within their focus? boo-shit.
not a chance. not even close, fool.

I used to walk through walls
It hurt like hell

i've heard if one walks thru walls they are unable to walk thru picture hangers, thereby causing a tears to their clothing (which walks thru with them, ironically).

could you verify that for me, amigo?

A distracted clutz
I used to amuse everyone
Bonking my head on telephone poles.
I was that kind of a kid


I have walking around lately with a mirror in front of me so I can see what it is I am walking away from.

I had a good friend like that when I was a young teen.

it's about time somebody had the wherewithal and the intestinal fortitude to tell that drop shot what's what. kudos to you.

he had it coming, as you well know.

thx, dino.

...can't see thru concrete for sure, 'tho sometimes I see right through its jungle. But sometimes I can't even see through that X-ray gingham dress... (why did this one remind me of that old Beefheart lyric?)

I don't know if he had it coming or not
but I sure deserved the knots I got
xrayed people on concrete walls
I would never have believed it
if I had not seen them with Ferlinghetti eyes
well his poetry


I have lost touch with every friend I had when I was a young teen.

"friends come and go but enemies accumulate"
I think my computer is out to get me Cecil.
How foolish is that?

I'm glad I don't have X-Ray eyes. Great poem my friend!

John

X ray eyes are a bitch with an ice pick
You are wise to be grateful John


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Cecil, succinct poem thingy, you wrote my life story.

I spent twelve years in college staring through the windows at the world outside, trying to understand it. I was the eternal college sophomore, I think I read somewhere it is called The Faust Complex.

What it was for me was the perfect education for a truck driver.



I stumbled on a poem the other day by Ryokan. I think you might like
my kwanzaa gift to you old friend.

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out
http://www.mipoesias.com/2004/jack1eivaz3.htm

sincerely
jt

damn right, truck! i love that poem. ryokan must've been one awakened fellow.

"Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment? "

the world is so much bigger... so big it's all i can do to stay awake.

happy Kwanzaa to you, amigo.