Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

it's the poetry, man
yes it's about the poetry
what else is there

i feel like Bukowski
when he talks about
why he kept writing

"it was because they are so bad"
"not because i was so good"
then he lights a cig with that
lucky lady lighter of his that
looks like it belonged to some
big time hood

and says good night, good luck
and happy reading
yes it's about the poetry
yes it's about the poetry
yes it's about the poetry

and it's about some Mexican whore
in down town L.A.that just gave you
a poet job or it's about the dark muse
that you met in the alley with a mask
she talked through that wooden devil

it's about what she said
as you stood there enchanted
it's about the words that she spoke
that you had to write down with a
stubby, before she vanished
in a puff of smoke, and you were
left holding the bag looking grubby
it's damn well about the nubby poet

You say it right rabbit.

yeah, except for all the stuff that isn't.

(nice writing)

I dig your lingo. In the back alleys of the mind poetry such as this arises. Phantastic.

John

Doreen, thanks, confusion reigns, i can't really discuss it, but since our exchange happened here, we can either continue it here, which would become a ,long drawn out dialogue, do you want that? or you can write letters to me.I pretty much grok a lot about your life, from your writing/poetry and your on going dialogues with lightning Rod.But, you remark about the poem, "except what isn't" well you know lady i could say that too.But i keep writing, about it through the poetry.See?

hey goldenmyst, you got the poetry thing, and you self-publish it too, on Lulu even, i began on Lulu with novel, but when i sent for a revised proof, they sent me the wrong copy, and i asked them to fix it and they just did not answer, or gave me the run-around answer, i don't know what their problem is, but i took my novel straight to amazon, which is where it is now.

hey SadLuckDame, i like your poet name.

revolutionrabbit wrote:Doreen, thanks, confusion reigns, i can't really discuss it, but since our exchange happened here, we can either continue it here, which would become a ,long drawn out dialogue, do you want that? or you can write letters to me.I pretty much grok a lot about your life, from your writing/poetry and your on going dialogues with lightning Rod.But, you remark about the poem, "except what isn't" well you know lady i could say that too.But i keep writing, about it through the poetry.See?

Not really. I don't see. I write poetry too. That's what I do. I'm a poet. *shrug* I've been doing it for many years. My reply to this piece was a reply to this piece. Nothing more than that. No hidden meaning. Your poem title is "Yes, it's all about poetry." My reply to your poem was "yeah, except for all the stuff that isn't." Then I told you "nice writing"

And yet you're bringing up some conversation we had in the past and talk about me writing you letters in private? Why?

You want to make it public what you're talking about, obviously, even though it has nothing to do with this piece. What you're talking about is a conversation we had in the past where you insulted me in public and called me names and made reference to my relationship with Lightning Rod which is long ago and indicated that there was something wrong with my character. I didn't like that much so I sent you a PRIVATE message and told you you'd insulted me and that you don't even know me. I asked you for an apology and you haven't given me one. Instead you post THIS post which brings up THAT previous conversation (which wasn't really a conversation at all, it was a personal attack on me).

So, there you have it. Is THAT about poetry? I don't think so. That's about my being insulted by something you said about me in public, making a character judgement about a person you don't even know... ME.. and you bringing it up yet again in public.

Please stop. Thanks.

And if you apologize, that would be nice. Perhaps you didn't intend to call me names and judge my character.

Peace out.

and this bit

I pretty much grok a lot about your life, from your writing/poetry and your on going dialogues with lightning Rod.

i have no idea what that means. "grok" was a fictional term in a fictional book. I don't know what you're telling me. Also, I haven't had any on-going dialogues with Lightning Rod for 2 years so they're obviously not on-going. Just saying. Whatever you're talking about is beyond me.

whatever doreen.nevermind. have a nice day.

thanks, you too.

oh and...snif.....frankly my dear....i don't give a damn!

now roll the credits for GONE WITH THE WIND!

grok that! or don't. sniff sniff, oh dear.

we are so beyond this secret love affair.

and now for more kick ass poetry.

revolutionrabbit wrote:oh and...snif.....frankly my dear....i don't give a damn!

now roll the credits for GONE WITH THE WIND!

grok that! or don't. sniff sniff, oh dear.

we are so beyond this secret love affair.

and now for more kick ass poetry.

WTF are you talking about? What "secret love affair"? Have you gone off your meds? LOL

This post is NUTS!

Obviously you don't give a damn or you wouldn't have lashed out against me some months back and publicly attacked my character. And when asked personally and privately for an apology, refused to give one.

That's not news.

No "Gone With The Wind" here, Sir.

If you choose to be disrespectful to me, that's your prerogative, I guess. But I don't like it. And I don't have to communicate with you. I don't respect people who don't give me respect nor invest my time attempting to communicate with them. It's that simple.

Peace out.

It is all about the poetry
and not the poet.

...my opinion is that it`s certainly best to separate an artist far enough from his work, so that one does not take him with the same seriousness as one does his work. In the final analysis, he is only the precondition for his work, its maternal womb, the soil or, in some cases, the dung and manure out of which it grows -
http://www.mostweb.cc/Classics/Nietzsch ... als47.html

.....
It's about some greeky god
poet gigolo,
whispering jazz in my ears,
stalkin my weak spots,
with blue ink,
flung outta
a leaky heart.
No woman can resist that.
Dammit

Fantastic read
H