Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

<center>Clinging</center>

He would not take his helmet off because of his fear of being killed.

The other soldiers were relieved when a Viet Cong sniper shot him and his shrieks stopped.

Well I never been to Spain
But I kinda like the music

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semi crazy
semi conscious
semi spontaneous
addicted to the code
3/15/09
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minimalism - less is more **

**Architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

You ever hear from surfermike?

never.

you?

Not since October 17, 2007

Aboot one week after my 2xangioplasty...

I had thought it was much longer time than that.

his flash back that

I am sure he is doing fine

Up there in god's country.

Thanks to surfermike I have a pretty good picture in my head of what god looks like.

thanks for reading amigo

roger and ouch...

Sorry I caused you pain,



I remember that bit about god from one of those deep philosophical conversations on litkicks about how to prove/ disprove god exists. One of those exercises in logic.

Mike cut to the chase about what he saw one day at a fire base on a hill in Vietnam .

I take everything too literal, but I thought his logic was pretty good.

In case you are curious, god wears aviator sunglasses and carries a forty five automatic.

"Oh dear", says God, "I hadn't thought of that," and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic. --- Douglas Adams

how the heck can a person hijack his own thread.

when a was a rookie mailman in baltimore, there was project that was notoriously dangerous on a good day and on a bad day when two warring drug gangs were really at each other, the boss actually gave me a bullet-proof vest to go deliver the mail....this was my third day...I said, what if they shot me in the head ?....he rolled his eyes and yelled at the next guy coming in the door for work...Jones, get over here, I've got a special assignment for you...no shit...i was prepared to quit...but Jonesy went out there without any reservations..... I too like the minimalism, and the Three Dog Night, as well........keep on truckin'.......

It was a sweltering day and the squad leader told every one they could take their helmets off because of the heat. They must have been those steel pot helmets. This one guy was too afraid to take off his helmet and fried his brains, he had some kind of heat stroke and started screaming it went on for a long time before he was shot.



What is strange about this is that for some reason your poem
An Iron Butterfly in the Valley of Dreams was the inspiration for this. I can't tell you why, it was like dominoes tipping over one thought leading to another and winding up thinking about surfermike and hoping he has found his lee shore.

thanks for reading
thanks for the feedback