Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I claim no universal absolutes
and cannot therefore absolutes reject.

Can sin or faith be bolder manifest
than God be sought within such paradox?

Can I define what is by what is not
and yet avoid some misled positive?

Can struggle with the Name divine as this
be any more conspicuous to grace?

joel wrote:Can I define what is by what is not
and yet avoid some misled positive?

Can struggle with the Name divine as this
be any more conspicuous to grace?

Good questions. Like when I vow not to put God "in a box", instead of choosing a specific doctrine..... just never felt it was my place....

to can or not to can, yet never saying can't......................

You can & you can't,
that's why you'll never
find the treasure
in between.
Yeah, that makes sense now,
but tomorrow is another deprivation.

..... just never felt it was my place....

god over there and me over here
my place in relation to god
I feel no need to defend god
He has so many on his side.


All these pissed off christians, coming to the aid of poor god. Started saying a silent grace over my food again, such a trivial detail, but I live my life in mundane details. I thank my creators, Crazy Mike and San Antonio Rose.

what were we talking about
here, something don't exist?

absolutes,

no I got no absolutes either
just a statistical reality of the flux at any given moment.
or so it seems
that is just where the gray matter meets the sense data. where the rubber meets the road I can not see what I am writing.

gypsyjoker wrote:

..... just never felt it was my place....

I feel no need to defend god

such a trivial detail, but I live my life in mundane details. I thank my creators, Crazy Mike and San Antonio Rose.

That I have no absolutes
seem to prevent
and ensure
their own reality.

That I feel I trust
requires something there
tanglible or imaginary
or both in some reality.

That I would trust to feel
is further than my absolutes
allow and/or forbid
and reaffirms intuition's ironic smile.

intuition's ironic smile

well said
to see the humor
the cosmic goof
staring at blood encrusted mars tonight
on the onter side of the sky bright Venus.
I felt small, frail, insignificant
and alive.

I am not sure what my absoloutes are
I am pretty sure that poetry is not dead

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
were there a hundred holocausts poetry would not be dead
and symbols are not corrupted
men are corrupted.
this has nothing to do with your post
I don't think
pure ramble

I have no more beloved (though a few equally beloved) poetic images than those of the free flight of birds and butterflies in word and picture from victims of the holocaust.

I am also pretty sure poetry is not dead; but perhaps it has died and simply resurrected into something new.