Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

in the creases of my chair
crumbs of days gone by hide like vague memories
episodes of a long running television show
micro-fragments of a single deep breath

it's way too crazy to break it all down with Rorschach
I touch it with long wrinkled fingers, allowing
my warm breath to envelope the scenes
from my own romantic comedy

the acting wasn't half bad for a man
ad-libing his lines and.... who will judge
my performance anyway, I know it wasn't
Shakespearean or anything, but

it felt like a heartwarming tale,
of profound experimentation
by a hapless mad scientist
that wasn't afraid to mix it up, this man

had a sense of volatile organic compounds
but lacked the discipline of a Dalai Lama or a Gandhi
an ordinary man with old-school-crazy parents,
a perplexing array of burnt out teachers and nutty professors

bosses demented, sadistic and in many cases evil.....
neighbors with chips on their shoulders
and who knows what in their freezer chest in the padlocked shed....
I'm just a tossed salad of whatever was lying around

a celebration of the ordinary, an exaltation of the humble - felt it all the way down to my quotidian core

saw wrote: I'm just a tossed salad of whatever was lying around

as most of us are

loved this piece

The influences that shape our shiftings ,yes I can relate to this poem ,I sort of feel like an old workshop full of junk and tools .This made for a fine smart wake up in the morning of a new day poem, I am off for my morning ride on the tadpole trike , good morning all !!

thanx sasha and leaf.....like to hear the feedback...

saw wrote:in the creases of my chair
crumbs of days gone by hide like vague memories
episodes of a long running television show
micro-fragments of a single deep breath

it's way too crazy to break it all down with Rorschach
I touch it with long wrinkled fingers, allowing
my warm breath to envelope the scenes
from my own romantic comedy

the acting wasn't half bad for a man
ad-libing his lines and.... who will judge
my performance anyway, I know it wasn't
Shakespearean or anything, but

it felt like a heartwarming tale,
of profound experimentation
by a hapless mad scientist
that wasn't afraid to mix it up, this man

had a sense of volatile organic compounds
but lacked the discipline of a Dalai Lama or a Gandhi
an ordinary man with old-school-crazy parents,
a perplexing array of burnt out teachers and nutty professors

bosses demented, sadistic and in many cases evil.....
neighbors with chips on their shoulders
and who knows what in their freezer chest in the padlocked shed....
I'm just a tossed salad of whatever was lying around

I hope this all was ahead a steak dinner - Thx, saw, enjoyed

mingo