Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

shoes of rain
the summer will never come again
people want their poetry to be spoon fed
from some local personality
as if that is where poetry lives
my boots are not full of rain
the little god is barking outside my door
this woman is walking all over me
the bible people are knocking on my door
they never imagine that it's an insult to my intelligence
what if I answer them with a poem that I say will save them
the woman wants everything I have, and them some
say's I should record my poetry, so it won't get lost
there was a poetry site where a lot of people wrote their poems
computers are not infallible, information can get disappeared
some people study books to learn how to write
I read books to see the words perform in all sorts of unusual situations
learning a language is not the same as making language from scratch
it's simply absurd to take language for granted, as if we are born
with it, as if words are put into our mouth just so we can feed ourselves
it's not about looking at the New Yorker magazine for your daily fix
oh, look some just so wonderful person got their perfect poem published

honestly for me, the dance of trying to get published has always turned me off....sure i keep printed copies of my poems...i find it interesting to see what a wrote 5 years ago vis a vis today...but that's it....I like posting to see if any of my words strike a chord with anyone...i like the community here...we are all trying to express something, and must wonder if those emotions turned into words touches anyone....we are cyber colleagues....but i have put zero effort into being published, because that has never been why I write....just as I never discuss my religious beliefs with strangers that knock on my door....I always tell the then the same thing, my spirituality is private...not subject to your approval

I'm still sifting for the line that seems to come from outer space
via inner space, or the other way around. Publish shmublish.
oh yeah, there is that poetic novel I self published. I hope God
is a good publisher.

shoes of rain ...

I always thought that the poem falls down from the first line
even if the rest of the poem seems to be from somewhere else.