Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

a geyser of emotion,
tears appear without warning
roll down the crevices of my face
leaving a salty, slightly acidic, residue on my tongue
that lingers

my hands are busy
holding the pad and the pen,
so these unsolicited guests
will need to dry on their own.
now, it is the soul's turn

to navigate the maze of questions,
the spirits turn to decipher the cryptic codes,
these drops aren't random acts
they aren't some kind of biological deficiency
they are tiny bells

they signal the heart
they engage the mind, in essence
they are tiny time travelers, refugees
that escape the sockets that contain them
spill over the optic walls

in their quest for understanding,
they slip along the facial landscape.
Be calm !....they are not to be feared
their streams are here to enliven the dance
the evolutionary rumba

they have come in peace
to set the astral wheel
of wisdom
spinning down the road
like a used tire shoved by an invisible hand

around and around and around it goes...........

great flow here....amidst the ups and downs....called life, in all it's majesty....damn shame i missed u last week.....

i feel so much
i cannot speak
pen steps in

thank you judih, nothing better for a poet to hear...and mark, I was so looking forward to seeing you, as well as doreen, but alas,,it didn't happen...the tribute night to dino was very moving...particularly when his sister read poems he wrote from ages 11 and 12....same old witty irreverent constantine