Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Surrender

she gave up smoking
she gave up drinking
she gave up potato chips
she gave up late nights and dancing, so
she gave up music, no need for it
she gave up fornicating and liked it so much
that she gave up sex altogether, then
she gave up love
she gave up roses
she gave up prayer
she gave up the will to live, then
she just gave up

awww... what a sad story!
No life?
poor girl

I feel very sorry for her!

Glad to hear she stopped smoking, tho!

gi'me, gi'me, gi'me
just a sad hit, another bad hit
lusty life out o' me head
out o' me bed
out o' me
Forgive me, forgive my mind oh dearest,
oh kindest, scent of sin
washed pure, washed white as snow
falls, lightens my old grey
imagines me
dead

Giving up on what we enjoy usually makes us give up in general. It's the pleasantries of life which keep us going. Give up what you don't need or what's hurtful, yes, but for pete's sake, don't lose what drives you to live.

Lightning Rod's mother passed a few weeks ago...

mnaz, I can't see your post!

I know! it's freakin' me out..

Butch ... we had a tribute thread to Peggy right after she passed. she was so sweet... condolences to Lrod's family and friends.

mnaz... the host is in process of moving our entire site to another server/computer/machine because of the recent technical difficulties. Sounds like that there was a glitch during this transition when you were posting and that's why your post is missing. Sorry about that. Can you repost it?

Lightning Rod, sorry for the loss of your Mom.
I know how it is... Both of my folks are dead...
I remember when the grief was new. My Mom died in 1998
and my Dad died in 1999.

Loss of parents is never easy. May the Lord bless your
Mom and keep her safe within heaven's gates.

L-Rod, keep those epistles coming into the net. You're a great soul.

I'm sorry to read about your mom's death, Lrod.

Your poem's beautifully succint, openly holding its sorrows.

You stood in the kitchen
slowly and spied
the surface's tension
on waters unboiled
until they had bubbled
and blisters burped
and water was humbled,
changed into air--
but then you still stood there,
your pot on the flame,
when waters were gone
but pressures were same--
and still you just stood there
and steam at your ears
turned curls like the tendrils
of poison vined fears
and I was uncertain
of what still appears
in my hopes, condensation--
in honesty, tears.

Joel... I just love your writing...

Here's a link to the condolences thread for Lrod about Peggy, his mother.

http://studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.p ... gy#p119326