Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

painting by kes, http://www.buschwind.de/kes/kes.html


he couldn't stand the air
the stale heat, the
naked noise of
creaking doors

he couldn't stand the
disturbing breeze
that breathed though the
lonely gate

he followed the opening
with his eyes

while he sat still
among broken glass and time
and the fragments
of his longing

paralyzed by his own
unbearable smell
of discomfort

skin scratched neuralgia
neurotic neverland
numb

the face in the mirror
the mirrors in the eyes
the i of knowing
nothing
always

prisoner
builds bars
inside bars

you can be so soundless
green eyes
saying all forms
are scars

the bars never
leave his lips:
he scratches himself
into pain after pain, and he
finds himself again
far away
in babel

he longs for the word, the relief, the belief

he defies them
he deifies them

his voice
still travels in silence
through anonymity
and floe
while a flower
falls from his eye
and blooms
in his hungry mouth

he wants to believe
he longs for relief

he cannot
speak

warning divine ego series..


.



one cannot free associate as a prisoner of the past.
my very presence, built to outlast
such fear

deathbed, tended hourly; there shall be no tug upon my soul

our worlds seemingly one and the same,
only yours comes with explanations
losses and gains.

.

oh, if all could hold the pose
if all movement could be frozen
the swirls and sounds be calm and quiet
and he be free from pain - at ease.

if all could stop the lies and shows
the hypocrisy they have chosen,
if they'd shut up and stop the riot
and he be finally at peace

then he'd release a mellifluos song
compose a nectar dream and paint
his yells from wrong to dulcety ambrosian

then he'd repose
repose

then he would have earned
repose
from within the meritorious labors
of self perfection

self perfection
is just a reflection
of our concieted mind
and usually decietfully inclined

LOL hi piph

repose
from the eyes
that scratch his face

haha hi iblieve -- well said
well put
hard won

and yes. repose from the eyes that scratch the self...
if only i could heal
just that much more faster than i die
i could live forever..
thank you both.

if only i could heal
just that much more faster than i die
i could live forever..

that's the poem for the pic! thanks, e-piph.

beauty, thankyou unmet friend,
the hottest part of the day calls
but i shall return..
return to you all,
'til then.

'til then.

(the hottest part, here too.
bed. and touch. and dreaming.)

good night.

g'nite.