Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

winsome poet
win some, lose some
did it catch your eye...
the handsome words
trotted out like beefcake turkey
rare, or just well done
were they clever enough
to pass for a heart, were they
muscular enough to hold up the ceiling
I don't know anymore, can any addiction
be good for your health and welfare
what about the innocent public

what is your jones sister......brother
can you spare a piece of paper
can you sharpen my pencil without a charge
I don't need much, the back of junk mail will do
oh wait, I understand your hesitation to get involved
but it ain't like I'm asking for the hypodermic junk
how about a Coca Cola ?...given the original ingredients
I now see why they called it the Real Thing
I guess my question is, Am I the real thing
or just the watered down variety with the cancerous sweetener
silly I know....silly things happen to a poet some mornings

when he already knows the answers, but just has to write something down
it's all quite clear, despite my bombastic ramblings......a poet must poet
so let the words fly through the air, and land somewhere
anywhere
reader beware, the words you read here may not be good for you..... ( in small print )

jones for poetry
real enough
do I live in this world any more?
beware their words
steal your face right off your head
sitting here with the tv on, listening to a show about a company called Clearview, a kid who wrote a facial recognition program for the Ministry Of Love,

please pardon typos too stoned to keep my fingers on the keys, I used to drive a semi steering with my elbows while I rolled a joint
I appreciate the warning, studio eight poetry makes me want to confess.
Henry what's his face the guy who wrote tropic of, he knew his onions, I want to stay focused,. because I am high on the real thing, a clean windshield and a tank of #2 diesel

a generation of vipers
with pure intentions
we have nothing to fear except the young
a disclaimer about number 2 diesel
I was a schmuck who drove a truck
but I overcome my addiction to pot

the only thing better than that is the real thing
which is number two diesel
better than sex
an ocean of motion
yeeha
I miss the erections but not the self-righteousness of babes in the woods

I backed up more miles than Cassady ever drove
I don't worry much about addictions anymore, I realized I loved the road more than pot, oh sure I could get stoned and drive like a pro, but thermodynamics always caught up with me after 3 days, if wanted to do it for long haul, I was better off with coffee bubble gum and bluegrass than the green grass shakey typing adrenalin or cold, l????ll texas winters so kind but can turn brutal in a heartbeat
the blessings of longevity, I take 13 pills every morning
and they all filter reality in one way or another

lonesome ramblers like the beats they knew that the only way is to rise above it

really great replies truck
I have always liked the confessional aspect of poetry
and Dino's series on Confessional Poems remain my very favorite
i could read them again and again
knowing him personally, poetry was the only way for him to get it all out
and the way he could twist humor with heart-attack-dead-serious
like a pretzel of complex reality was brilliant
i encourage everyone to go back and read these poems
thanx again for the feedback

hard to imagine your life any different
than the one that played out, afterall
lives cannot be scripted even if you want to
because of the x factors, and the whys....and zeees
zeees are the times that try men's souls
and womens as well, in a way it's the wind that determines
how far and fast we go, how high we soar....we get
can't say I have regrets....wonderful children, friends
my youngest son is coming back to B'mo from the twin cities today
for the funeral of a really good friend.....25 years old
and when I think of all the risky shit i did, did i have a guardian angel
riding shotgun, cause many days it feels that way
25 years old and super nice this young man
so much good he could have done, and an old coot like me
still typing nonsense on his keyboard....go figure it out
I sure can't