Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

She had met him once
But his judgment remained
A stick up her ass

The little brat
Just like that
She kicked him to the curb

The whole thing about fairy tales is you actually kiss the frog with the expectation that he will turn into a prince
Cannot say that has not been tried
try to stay in love : with people-
Yet it would seem that -walking on eggshells
Is more the case
So fragile we are
Someone I know has begun to fragment
A lucky fellow he can no longer remember
Who that is
A friend s son went to the park
And got shot
Dolphins dying off the coast of Peru
They have not taken the tumor out yet

My son does not like it that I drink coffee
He says I’m erratic
I think maybe it is true
But without coffee I might start mainlining sugar
Pies cakes cookies
I would be busted for fat driving
God
If you are who they say you are
We need help
If it’s aliens. Help
Please

A lot in this. As with much modern and contemporary art/music/poetry----maybe even novels or essays----there are shifts of focus in this poem. The transitions are abrupt but the subject isn't the particular stories being quickly (and effectively) mentioned but your emotional throes. The particulars of the poem build on the idea and perception of "walking on eggshells". I think the end of the poem---asking for a little alien help---may seem like desperation and maybe---well, yes, there is some of that but what the poem says to me is that "wait a minute, I'm not who you say I am"---both about God and yourself.

It may seem like a cliché but this poem is thought-provoking. I'm rereading it and getting deeper into it. The two minefield lines are a friend's son being shot in the park and the tumor. Dolphins? I'm sympathetic to dolphins and other wild life (dolphins approach or surpass human intelligence) but the human suffering is what I identify with----though I can imagine myself (to a degree) being a dolphin, though one with human emotion----can we ever put ourselves in the place of other species and enter their emotions, instincts? Anyway, this poem will stay with me awhile.

raw and honest
as all of your poems
you have an uncanny ability
to dig deeper than most
and convey your findings to a larger audience
which always feels very real
for me poetry has always been partly therapy for me
and I sense you approach it that way as well

Cracked me up !

Fucking Righteous !

It is a week with breezes warm and balmy
The jack rabbits can be seen on the skyline at dawn
It is raining in a California sort of way

You all are like a campfire of poets that never let the fire go out

I know where to go if I need to breathe
I feel you
Thank you so much and yes I once had to hide in here


Butterscotch cookies calling
Come to palm desert and have coffee and an evening of open mike?