Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

On old soul island,
we have to wait out our youth
in ghastly uncomfort.

Each day
we fight the beast
of our innate intolerances.

We don't play those
love, strife, bitterness,
and sorrow games.

We hold our spit in,
like good gracious ancients.
We are never young again.

We sneak in little eyerolls,
when noone's lookin
at bigger pictures.

We hum songs
in the background
of status quo struggles.

We are invisible,
until our bodies catch up to us.
Then, our party begins.

We sneak in little eyerolls,
when noone's lookin
at bigger pictures.

yikes, i do this now, but there's usually someone who notices.
Does that mean i have a few middle age years left?

lovely salute, hester.
just answer my question - when does 'ancient' start? I'd like to hear anything over 1,500 years old.

I dig- and i mean both the sound when read out loud and the words

We Hold our spit in,
like good gracious ancients.
we are never young again.


like a good Patti Smith Lyric, i think it gains meaning each new time i hear/read it

awesome flow.

gives new meaning to the words "being uncomfortable in your own skin"...

We are invisible,
until our bodies catch up to us.
Then, our party begins.

oh yeah.... i'm still waiting

looking forward to the festivities

(cool write, hest!)

I really enjoyed this. It describes how I feel so many days...
and the wonder is, there is a party just waiting to happen.

oh yeah!!

We hum songs
in the background
of status quo struggles.

....and we cobble away all day, in our shaky attempt to
create bent bamboo rocking chairs that work in sand....

Hester, Sistah, I dig your contemplation. I'm just seven years away for AARP and still getting around fine. You are only as old as you think you are or something like that.

John