Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

how did this become
my fate....how is it
I'm still here with lungs
full of toxic birthdays
to fret my poems
on the tiny stage
when so many have left me

left the toil,
the nine to five...to nine
left the pursuit of hunting
green-backed lizards
for the black and white
photos spread out on a mesa,
to-be organized into the best version,
of a form of untangled perception

happy now to create
the azure art of limitless sky
and if your attention is keen
enough you'll see their faces
in the etch-a-sketch clouds
look even deeper
you will see their words on the side
of a passing gray

spacecraftmanship

zeppelins with cursive wisdom,
the poets that have left us
the poets
that have not only shed
their skin for the sake of art
but their entire bodies
stop look listen
dream the collective dream

Very interesting, I feel these poets also.They laugh because we are all so lost in the internet world of time and distance shrunk down to pixels . I think poets will always be lonely, sort of a hollow voice from a shadow , it is strange but when you do hear a true poet , you never forget .The poem is in my mind a poets poem It reminds me of feelings I have had about poets and slipping away quietly out a back door .

......here a poet there a poet....fire poet.....earth poet....poet by chance....are you real, i mean poet real....true poet....can it be a new poet or does it take years of fears my dears....
chris toll gone....dino too....lrod on the other side....soon it will be me....possibly you too...our space mission to write from the gut....endure- produce- endure....slings and arrows...strutting and fretting....jamming .....hours on the stage....and does it really matter???....it's all in the living, it's all in the living......

so for what they're worth, those words are worth a lot. the experience of reading some of those words for the first time, and then again. the joy of hearing the words spoken.

some words bring inspiration, miracle remedies. Some hurl me into depression for their accuracy describing human ineptitude. but some are like blankets again the cold wind of life.

so poets have done more than their earthly bit. dead or alive and i salute their immortal offerings.

thanks for your words, saw, and mark and leafsailors ghost

thoroughly enjoyed your thoughtful comments lsg, mark, judih......interestingly I was just listening to the CD, Words on War that Jamie Wilson put together where Mark, Judih and I all have contributions....I had forgotten how much great poetry there was there....some fine poets

beyond that tidbit, yeah..to me...the words mean something....I know we are a blip on the radar screen, but just the same, may as well make the ride enjoyable....

this piece rocked my world! ... love it!

thanx doreen...glad you dug it