Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

birds sing a different song this morning
backed up by the rhythms of raindrops
they are not moved to sadness for the weather

but for their good fortune
of unearthed worms, so I try
to incorporate their attitude into mine

personally I have no appetite for worms
though I hold no grievances or malice towards them,
but I do hunger for the avian perspective when storm clouds roll in

fueled by the changing climate in my head
so I wonder how do I look beyond the opaque glass
out into the field of dreams

how do I see the poetry in nature inside myself, wait
is that a metaphor in the mud ?
well it damn sure can't be nothin' at all

so what the hell are those things all covered in latent muck
I know the foolishness of ships with cocky predictions
I've seen the power of sleeping icebergs

I feel if something is lurking just below the surface
like this is the point where I should scrutinize all the shit
that's been clouding the puddles of clear thinking for so many years come and gone

I need to scoop them up, rinse them off, dry them with a turkish towel
to get a good look at these minor sages with questionable credentials....
these fucking little imps that plague me at four in the morning,

it must be time to look into clear faces
stripped of murky masks, time to stare down the past
see who blinks first

build it & it will come
movie that moved
the senses
a simple story
bout baseball players
coming out of
the corn
then the mystical return
so many come & goes
becoming selfless tonight
feeling part of whole
even these pesky kids
running around me
that was me
the homeless in starbucks
part of me
the drunken revelers
boasting, toasting, bragging
all part of us
it all goes on and on and on
that iceberg silent and still
can sink an ocean liner
whats beneath exceeds
the above, or does it
ive been watching the
flocks of birds flying
into the breeze
steady, pushing thru to
somewhere, it is all we
can do....like this thought provoking poem steve....thanks!

I've noticed-- what's beneath the surface is known to help sustain (or disturb?) that which is above, so I take fleeting comfort in that thought, and it all seems to meet somewhere in the vicinity of mud metaphors . . .

i hear that they taste good- nope- have not tried them- but they are expensive- good thinking-

if u eat them u must extract the worms......

thanx for the poetry and poetic comments...

what can we see
what can we sense
what matters in the course
of a long life of pushing back
against the tide
against the grain
you gotta know when to hold
know when to fold
know when to let the angst
stay buried, and when to help it
get free from the quicksand
the lines are razor thin
the lines form at the rear
the men in black are tuning up
the hearse, giving her an oil change
she'll be in tip top shape
come judgment day, but for now
tell em to fuck off, I ain't ready to go yet
got me some metaphors to decipher