Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the snow is falling on Portland, and the white city of many dreams are scattered from the skies of a frozen universe
sadness seems to cry out for the security that someone anyone in this cold world really loves me for who I am
the critic the control freak:the person who whines my name and will not hear me
has me screaming crying and wishing i were not a hostage of this house, of his love and my love for him
i carry my passport with me at all times
Chile will call me away from this dreary sadness and depression
Perhaps a bull fight might be more intereting than fighting with someone you asked for affection
he is as cold to me as this winter
if someone does not want to be physical and demonstrate passion what I ask is left?
If conversation is strained difficult and uncomfortable
how can you go on? death seems a solution today
like the sleeping trees I want to go away for a season
where people like me and hey smile and want to go places with me
take me to dinner
stay awake past nine making love
solstice seems more like lonliness than solitude

hey jana... much emotion in this piece!

thanks for joining in the jam

Could you please post jam posts on the jam thread?
http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=15357

We're jamming together on one thread.

Thanks and happy holidays to you!

I wish you would join the jammers CS.


I was in my late fifties before I figured out I had to accept myself for who I am/was. But I keep right on changineg learning that what some call disabilities are really strengths.

I like this poem a lot, I think it about accepting oneself and loving yourself, but in a selfless kind of way

I can't live in this world
And I refuse to kill myself
Or let you kill me.

The dill plant lives, the airplane
My alarm clock, this ink
I won't go away

I shall be myself --
Free, a genius, an embarrassment
Like the Indian, the buffalo

Like Yellowstone National Park.

(Whalen, Further Notice).

In Memory of Philip Whalen

Come on CS lets jam

funny, or is it
how it is darkest before the dawn
trival before depth
assertion impervious to the silience
splashing down in the waterfall of tears
comes a rainbow with integrity of spirit
colorful undefined timeless explainations to previous textures that unfelt
would have left me merely blind
the feelings light up the core
ripping from it s flesh like a child from the womb
born in a mess
to grow in feeble desires and tensions
how the ideas of happiness decieved me
left me laughing
at this joke
that carries me in its long arms of warmth and change
the sun rises: and everything is new
all for the tilt of the head a perspective
everlasting moments
of this season
kiss me
thirsty longing for what is
i am capable of this vast series of mutations