Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Put it in perspective, look at the night sky. Some of you kids don't remember what it's like to fight a war. Some of you don't remember shoveling ashes from the death camps but that's ok. It was never real when it happened anyway. It was never meant to mean anything. We're all so prolific and without a clue that I suppose it gets down to a shortage of time, the prophet's best friend. Did you pay your taxes? Did you vote to firebomb the poor or to help? Was your vote stolen? I miss whole galaxies just walking to the store. Not to get all Jesus or anything, but the rock must be tired of us. Some of you kids don't remember what it's like to fight a war. It's utter hell. It's a closed system.

Yet if you win it leads to prosperity. Guns and butter. Yes, let's prosper on the back of utter hell, like some Keynesian whackoff. Better yet, give it a series of stock symbols. Let's all get in shape. Is it just me, or will there be a glowing TV above the eventual radioactive crater this place is? No, probably just me. Enough of that cheap nihilistic stuff, done to death.

The problem is me. My brain is faulty, probably too small. Size matters. I'm not saying that all warriors have a cognitive deficit, only that they lack imagination from time to time. I mean, some very large brains have engaged in their own chosen utter hell. Shit happens. But what does it mean for the man on the street? What the hell does survival have to do with anything? It has to do with a pink sunrise I think. You get enough of them and the rock can finally be rid of us. But I promised I was through with that cheap, nihilistic stuff. I have a pink sunrise.

search, download,
upgrade and reboot
go to my pictures
and smile at the
pink sunrise

if a pink sunrise is the final view i witness of this once blue globe, i shall smile and melt into the next journey destined by pure consciousness... nothing is ever truly lost but hidden under sorrow.

an engaging side trip here, mark... indeed.

I love this write, Nazz

my favorite sunrise is pink and baby blue

I stood naked on a hilltop and watched a sunrise over the Red River

I'll never forget that sunrise just as the LSD was wearing off

I like this write too.
It's chock full of depth, it buzzes me with it.
The pink sunrise keeps me from avoiding it.
H

Thanks all. I'm surprised I got this one out. Jota posted something over on litkicks that kind of set me off-- powerful, recommended reading. Check it out!

I'm not a big fan of the US military system, where kids make mercenary-style deals, generally well-intentioned, with corporate death merchants in exchange for an "education". Though I guess it's better than a draft. It seems a natural aversion to me, though it no doubt puts me on the "fringe" regarding common wisdom. If I ever tried to run for office, such statements would probably do me in. Not sure where the "pink sunrise" came from... was just looking for a way to end the rant, I suppose. Thanks again.

L-Rod, before I left on my long, long road trip, some of my friends described it as: "Mark's going to run naked through the desert". I never actually did that, but it sounds like you lived the dream. Ha.

well ... I don´t have kids, I remember a war from the eighties, I´m walking an hour per day and I love pink sunrises! (I´m joking..!)

I like the way you added (somehow) the sentences here, nazz!

gracias for sharing!!!

it has to be a watermelon-y pink, though. okay? because you'll be thirsty after all that running & making sand angels in the desert. you understand that there has to be sand angels, don't you. like snow angels, but in the sand...hot on the skin and welcoming...like the-heat-coming-from-your-grandmother's-kitchen-when-she-baked-cookies kind of welcoming. too much violence in this world. no. NO! no more violence. my head is stuck into the sand like an ostrich refusing to see all the blood and war. blood and war. blood and war. when will it end. we didn't ask for this. or maybe we did. i asked for watermelon-y pink...for you...to quench your thirst. that's why you wrote about the pink sunset. i planted a black seed in the wind and blew it into your nose to grow in your mind and flow from your pen. i'm glad you received it.

Nazz, your contemplation is spoken with true poetic virtuosity. Your thoughts carry on the breeze like dandelion seeds hopefully to germinate in some unimaginable future, somewhere.

SmileGRL, your response is pure poetic loveliness of the highest order.

John