Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

My body, a bed sheet,
Spread out on the bed of pleasure,
Stained from the excesses
Of my senses.

My soul, a tablecloth,
Spread out on the table of knowledge,
Stained from the banquets
Of my mind.

That’s me, frail fabric,
Hung out on the line of life.

underneath this skin:
me

room expanding
space hung onto line
face touching the
amorphous sky

mask tossed
across the line of
the very self

doorbells waiting
soundless
on the shelf

my dumbbells
my mind
under the couch
stuffed in a corner
in the closet

stuck in yin
again
ebbed


no matter no mind
time to unwind
bows and arrows

there's something to be said for clean mind
deep brooding natural brain chemistry

zen raking today

Me too Kostas! Hangin right beside ya.

(We need some tye-dye....... )

I don't mean to be breezy. This is a very well written and darkly true piece.
I wish it wasn't so true.....

H

it´s a spacial-spacial poem kostas!
I can feel time hiding, somewhere...
great read,

Arcadia

She wrote
she could feel time hiding somewhere
well written and darkly true
face touching amorphous sky
line drying air fresh

fragile fabric of now.

frail bits of string sticking out and floating with the breeze electric
time defragments the soul, don't you know

you ought to trust yourself more, your bits are showing

time defragments the soul,

frail fabric,

knitted from the strings of the all father's heart
vibrating to a beat


nice work mr kostas

I'd say you were more like hemp,
sturdy and vibrant fibrous wind sails.
You can rope with it too and smoke it when you are through.

oops.

"string theory" now I am told that when we slice and dice the universe down to its most fundamental indivisible tiny pieces they are itsy bitsy bits of vibrating strings. I was thinking that the frail fabric of our existence is woven from those bits, and the vibrations determine if it is cat gut on a tennis racket or the strings of a fiddle or me or you. Like we are made of the lint in god's belly button.

yeah now I see it, you are right

"you might see me tonight
with an illegal smile
wont you please tell the man

I am just trying to have some fun

hot dog bun
my sister's a nun"

"frail fabric"

yup, me too....

but we do stand the test of time

hangin' on that line

blown dry

blows my mind

always the fabric.....never the feast



Great poetry Kostas. Enjoyed the read and all the comments it inspired.

Aw, hell, we'll all hang on the line together.....great company. Just blowin' in the wind.

I'm just trying to have me some funnn
hot dawg bun
my sisterz a nun
hot dawg bun
Atilla the hon

half an inch of water ya thinkz ya gonna drownnn.

Father forgive us for what we must do
You forgive us
We'll forgive you.
We'll forgive each other til we all turn blue
anj whistle an go fishin up in heavon.

Mousey blowz my mind.
She is kind of kind.
Squeek.