Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the pen burned in my hand
my heart ached for black fluidity,
I had a yen to take a bath in a tub of warm euphoric ink

the pen point hovered ala hummingbird
a mere eighth of an inch above the blue lined tablet
trembling like a golden aspen in the wind

the mind ran amok, zig zagging
a headless horseman on a cold halloween,
the hand confused, how to proceed

the blood boiled like the hand, had a serious jones
for cosmic confession, the kind that comes
when you are stripped of clothing

not from behind a darkened screened door
no, the therapy that arises when you rip open
the solar plexus cage doors

allowing all the wild animals to run free,
delirious to be unimpeded by bars of solid iron
or moats far too deep for realistic escape

consciousness can be very demanding !!
but if you are true to yourself, persistence
can keep the multi-headed beast at bay

as all the other deserving parts of yourself
frolic in meadows of dance
giddy, exhausted, tickled by fingers of high grass

you can feel your bones growing, sense the sprouting
of muscles and tendons, you witness
a fresh coat of flesh, creep over the welcome changes

best of all,
new eyes......
better vision

Visshuddha chackra
metal hardcore
invites the blues

new eyes never hurt anyone - best thing that could happen for most situations - and everything's a situation now ain't it? - new eyes for new pie - i love pie - no such animal as too much pie

"the blood boiled like the hand, had a serious jones"

That blew me away as it leaped off the page