Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

my father
he wore the hat
but he was from fucking
beverly hillshis father was a famous actor
my father was the first guy
to get stabbed in
live and let die


i tried to make my daddy like me'
but he just wasnt having it
i frustrate his heirarchy
make him look at what a father
he was not
and in my beauty and intelligence
i have to ignore him now

like a noise in the attic

holy fucking frog gobbling shit ! - finally

He always stood
At the end of the bar
With those heavy lizard eyes
In the shadow of a rock

I was always sent to find him
Like a tracker
By my granny
Found him in New Orleans
Florida
Baton Rouge Louisiana

But he had been lost
A very long time
Lost his twin brother
Young
But he never liked girls
Except to care for him

I found myself at the jazz funeral morning
after a night of drinking with the poets

I lived on Sunset Blvd for a year
and ran back to San Francisco

I never wanted to be a movie star

He was like a whiskey voice

Marlboro man
Wheezing
Alternating between Don Juan
Casanova mama a boy
Never grew up
Now granny loved him all up
He just couldn't get it right
My pop
I cross wired myself
Like a pretzel
Wanting his love
Like I did to all my husbands
Hoping they would love
Maybe even think of me
Once in awhile

But I was a photo in a wallet
That when he had a live one
In a bar stool
Warm with sloppy lust
He would whip my picture out
And say" that's my lil girl"
He had not seen me in ten years
When I showed up at his door
Ejected by the mother unit
Puberty causes the daughter
To look for the father
History of the gene pool
I liked the jeans and the pool

I settled for
Things I adored
Because I was real tired
Of men that did not love women

I became someone I loved
And it no longer mattered
If you loved me or not

I cross wired myself
Like a pretzel
Wanting his love

But I was a photo in a wallet ...

You touched something that touched back, didn't ya? ... and I didn't have to dig through a bunch of feathers or ceremony to find it and be touched by it either - AMEN!

Good For You ! - love it !

These current works of yours are SMOKIN' - ain't nobody in the whole world can't feel these ya know -
You Go Jana !

What drew you to men that did not love women

so many of us were flung into adulthood with low self esteem....that sure makes healthy relationships near impossible...it's never too late for a new life

I love your poems because they are what you
really see and feel, there is something
glorious in that, and hold sadness
with the thrill of it all.

I hear
That when your mama ana papa drank too much
Maybe you are going to find as things as such
At some time or another
Trying to resolve the first few mathematic
Errors
Erratic Ly hoping to find
Something better

And maybe I have!


Xxoo- then again- maybe not

very interesting poem....gotta watch live and let die sometime.....

Papa says" whose funeral is it?"
Smoking a cig
A man stabs him- then a wake happens and he
Gets sucked up by the coffin
Yep
Live and let die
Roger moored mom has a poster of my granddaddy
Richard Dix
And no chance of getting it back
Drunken generosity
Almost killed us all
That mirror that calls to the reflection

But I think
That you
Are awesome

Creative Soul, I appreciate these poems, because of its ingenuity & autobiographical stuff. Great art & photos, too.

"Live & Let Die" was one of Roger Moore's best James Bond movies, I think. I've seen
it at least twice. So, I saw your Dad playing his role as the first victim of a murderer.
It had a local feel to it because of the bayou videos & being in the New Orleans area.

I've been to New Orleans twice... Once in 1961, & again in 1971, both during Mardi Gras
season. One of these years I'm going to make it back. It's about a days drive from Chattanooga, TN.