Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I was in Logos used book store
it was a long time ago, it was now
I knew this long time ago now
I could feel it in the books on the shelves
I was in this store today, just like yesterday
I would stand in the isles, and exude book
waiting for some book to fall off the shelve
and claim me, some poet maybe in the poetry
section, I wanted to be buried in poetry
I wanted the heavens to rain burning signs of the times
I could find some hidden secrets in a book like any
other one, I could stand here for hours and smell poetry
I could smell the words like wet leaves in the mouths
of the dead, words that came alive beneath my fingers
here is a poet that wrote about trees,but these trees
though they be beautiful, more beautiful then a poem
have now taken up residence in this poem, as what
else could be able to describe such beauty in words
without the words the beauty is just in the eye
of the beholder, here is a book called, 'Paradise Lost'
the poet will stand here and have a dialogue with the devil
this used book store is an excellent choice to conduct
such clandestine activity, a down on his luck reader of poetry
talking to the devil between the leaves, and the wind splitting
in two, one part ruffling through the tree of words, the other
whispering on the road of sentences, calling down the pages
strange phrases come whistling in the wild shadows, turning
another one, the penniless poet weaved in and out realities
many poems seemed to enter one another blowing through
each, it was as if the poems had awoken, and they forgot
who wrote them, for a spell, they frolicked like wood nymphs
the poet was sleeping on his feet, but his eyes were open
and they were reading all the poems in the future he would write

very cool man but this line just hit me in my heart

"I could smell the words like wet leaves in the mouths
of the dead"

what exactly..."hit me in my heart" the image of dead leaves on the mouth of the dead?

so, if you are in a book store or a library, a lot of the poetry, a great deal of the poetry
is by people who passed on, but the image itself, might bring up a picture of somebody
who just died, maybe a poet, Garcia Lorca comes to my mind.

i like the smell of books. i equate that not with death, but life. which i like that the balance of life (wet leaves) and death was thrown in there.

salaams!

thrown in wet leaves

Lovely!

I wanted to be buried in poetry
I wanted the heavens to rain burning signs of the times
I could find some hidden secrets in a book like any
other one, I could stand here for hours and smell poetry
I could smell the words like wet leaves in the mouths
of the dead, words that came alive beneath my fingers
here is a poet that wrote about trees,but these trees
though they be beautiful, more beautiful then a poem
have now taken up residence in this poem

i bought a book in portugal
that i remember a long time ago

foucault's pendulum
gorgeous read

in the story tellers workshop
your poem which i almost finished
seems inspired
by the notion of travel and return

i should actually finish reading your poem
and post comments only in retrospect
from now on

but ...

i have difficulty with some words
the idea of smelling words
seems irrational

and wonderfully so !!!!!!

I haven't read Foucault's Pendulum yet
by Umberto Echo, i know what it is about
I have a copy I got in the thrift store
I have read the French philosopher Foucault
I have read the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa
I bet he could smell words, at least he could smell poems
I haven't been to Europe, I did live in San Francisco
back when it was possible to live in San Francisco

many poems seemed to enter one another blowing through
each, it was as if the poems had awoken, and they forgot
who wrote them,

that´s beautiful, r-rabbit!!!

Used books stores are almost in extintion in my city: "Mandrake" is the one of the survivors. There are also editorial saldos book-stores (it´s not the same, of course), the one I frequent is "El Aleph".

did I write that?

El Aleph...Reminds me of Borges, he wrote a story called The Aleph

long time ago....now.....i likes that....i used to get lost in those stores when i was a book collector......now i read everthing on nook and kindle....lol....cool piece

I can't get myself to get a kindle, I like books, I wrote a book
because I wanted to have a copy of it in my hands, smelling
the pages.

You Luddite, you! My hound likes fig newtons - i like sex

sex is like a fig Newton a book is not a machine a dog likes what you put in front of him
if you know how to turn the pages