Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

what fuels this stubborn yen....
to say something....
not just anything,
this stoic jones to get it down
why so important
to try...to care....to continue
conjuring bubbling lava
on scraps of asbestos paper,
uninvited addiction poking
the standing grizzly, bare
as ink falling like thick hot rain,
hand risen, fingers twitching......
eye sockets red from looking too long

gravestones of old writers,
markers overturned
names illegible
black holes opening below ground

like cobras
released from baskets,
tongues flicking...............
new-voices in my ancient ears
with inspiration old as blood......
eroding church of a youthful soul
roofless, and withered as my
my serpentine struggles
my wriggling in the crabgrass of time
my tantalizing tangle with words
my tangential tango with phrases
my tangible tantra dream emerging................
my shedding of skin

Allow me, sir, to congratulate you on this fine, fine early morning read for this old fellow investing my life's left to reading good words placed together in an explicable order but yet an order that pleases me, perhaps making today a possibly better day than yester's day.

thanx very much Cecil...what more can a writer desire ....then to have someone heap a little praise.....and not just someone....a fine writer with similar passions and determinations....two old goats chewing on the scenery ....

"...two old goats chewing on the scenery ...."

Indeed, indeed..

Yes!

two old goats
chewing the scenery
tin cans and all
two old poets
twisting words and ideas
into spiraled horns of plenty
of nonsense, and a little truth
two old birds flying 'round
the backyard unafraid
of the scarecrows of age
landing on branches in old trees of wisdom and folly
squawking and singing with raspy voices