Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Oh if we could only chirp like birds
Having a good wind carry our words
As those looking in from the outer dark
Resist the urge for an occasional bark
Once wise, vigorous and walking the land
Now dotard, ungainly, barely able to stand
Is something feeding off of you ?

From that first long spellbound gawk
A fat mouse embracing the hungry hawk
Feeding well, not even leaving a bone
You are only a stain, all but unknown
Tightly twisted lust instead of true love
Too little below and not much above
Do you know what’s feasting on you ?

No warm spirit bestowing soothing caress
But an ancient evil and your soul to possess
Something far older than recorded time
Foul and never worthy of good rhyme
Exotically titillating and dreamy eyed
Never able to feel your love deep inside
While it slowly eats you alive

Seemingly beautiful, much to be seen
In front of a mirror where it does preen
For a nightly feast where fools will revel
Raising their cups to a gluttonous devil
Wasting chirping words upon a bad wind
Consumed by their muse, no words to send
A stain in the dirt fast fading away

Farewell to The Great Bear

bear medicine is interesting- manitu s aloha

The Great Bear no longer hears my words
Out of earshot and so far away
I remember our last journey together
Traveling far, yet hardly getting anywhere

There over two winters ago
In that hollow surrounded by mountains
A lifeless stream flowing through
We heard not even a bird chirp

You did not want the Birdman to come along
Not wanting to go outside of that screened-in porch
Tapping that small table top as if it were a keyboard
Singing glories of god and preaching partisan politics

The fine liquor eased not any ill differences
With each quaff more fuel to the fire
Sodden truths and grim revelations
Was this your way of telling me something ?

You looked the same, perhaps a bit more to be seen
With age, I suppose the same held true for me
But when we made that first black walnut fire
Your heart and soul seemed so far away

Quickly leaving that small fire you went back inside
Quaffing liquor and tapping your fingers
Instead of cheerful and comfortably warming
This fire to me, seemed lonely and sad

Not willing to walk where the stream cascaded
Yet prancing back and forth to the grill like a young buck
No longer able to pluck the truth from lies
Surrendering to the machine, caving into the fear

I had never seen a mountain vale like that
Not a bird to be heard, or life in that flowing stream
After three days I was glad to be away from you
Was this your way of bidding me farewell ?

The countless partisan emails and good news of your god
Seeing your associates and what you have become
Before I closed and walked away from the book of faces
Bidding a farewell while remembering who you once were

beautiful opening lines & photos, gracias!!!!!!