Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

banished from vegas
north into exile, blank planet
rising curves and their deceptions
ridges rise, retreat, rise yet higher
subtle eye level trick of horizon
a brothel every sixty miles
bare curves and sweeps

rock is breathing, rise and fall
at bonnie claire, four thousand feet
truckers gear down, faint shift and whine
you can see the junction, crawling boxes
turn off, to parchments of unspoken
unfinished canvas of terra
the joy of a new road

slopes rise, trivially
reference simply rotates
the crawling boxes recede
ridges flow in lustrous waves
no sound or scale, only space
joshua trees with arms raised
to a thin blue sky

nice picture .....the uncomplicated beauty, the dramatic landscapes that dwarf our pea brains........and the enigmatic runaway truck ramp....ha

well done, pardner.......

Captain Beefheart
lived in a desert town
growing up, he had a
thing for Joshua trees
in his pictures, his art
his poetic lyrics seemed
to come from that, arms
of those trees raised in
skies like spiky brushes
all gnarly and twisty
always look strange
question marks
to the stars
he must have
listened to the trucks
out on the highway
passing those Joshua
that seem to be trying
to tell us something
about directions

I got to stop posting to this board
it is too wonderful for me.

no sound or scale, only space

How can so much of nothing be so beautiful?

You made me homesick

thanks steve, craig and jack.
i don't know, something about these places
that were left for dead, can't put a finger on it
the road, damn road.. always homesick for it
the desert seems a little older, but has
a little of the same longing
and the rock still groans
longs for its stars