Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i slip out of the superlatives
duck down the midway alley
find a little smoking place
the eye of the hurricane

i flirt with the ring of fire
just enough to hear my breathing
touch the edges, aware of the ado
just beyond the imaginary lines

I'm happy here in this little bubble
sitting on the anti-adrenaline bench
this must be that lost cave they talk about
where both of my brains can talk to each other

the brain in my head and the brain in my gut
this is where the falcons soar on thoughts
above the twisting dreams
between the rote mechanization

and i see my reflection and i am a freak
unable to get on board, handle my obedience
memorize the sound bites, follow
the familiar cults of personality

surprisingly the dead air does not alarm
i'm hip to the turbulence just beyond
my self made medicinal nebulae
and......I am OK here

i see it so clearly here
inside the hidden pocket where ego
comes to die.....Love !
is the only rational act.

ah i like the bubble as well- the womb- the place of center- the cool cold dark water of winter bringing flowers and bees to the piece of me that stilll wants to be a part of society- was considering 'bee charming' - love is what made the bee look for pollen= desire made honey- NICE WRITE

great poem