Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

east of eden,
west of mecca
south of antarctica
north of santa claus.

To climb the pole
which holds the moon
will lead us to the star above
to reach and touch
and travel fast,
for shooting stars
remove the past
by soaring us into
the heavens
of a different day
where we are free to play.

free to play
with mind's eye
unmoved still waters run deep
even as we weep
we dream and pray

oh, beautiful untouchable top of the minaret
(I´m not a zoom
I´m not a Wender´s angel in an eastern tour
I´m not an helicopter pilot
I´m not a bird
I´m not a bat
I´m not an andinist
I´m not spider-woman)
but you make me want
to look at the sky
once more.

sky pilot
how high can you fly
and never never never
touch the sky

neruda wrote a poem

Para subir al cielo se necesitan
dos alas, un violín
y cuantas cosas
sin numerar, sin que se hayan nombrado,
certificados de ojo largo y lento,
inscripcíon en las uñas del almendro, títulos de la hierba en la mañana.

To rise to the sky you need
two wings,
a violin,
and so many things, incalculable things, things without names,
a license for a large slow-moving eye,
the inscription on the nails of the almond tree,
the titles of the grass in the morning.
Extravagaria (U Texas Press, '94)

this minaret is like covered with icing
or syrup, chocolate covered mosque,
cone, maybe almond sherbert
or a magic minaret that flies,
hitches a ride on a carpet
to Italy and becomes just a tower,
campanile, yet i digress:
the muezzin yowling 5 times
a day we don't hear here,
we don't see the fellahs
in their gowns (course wifeys
stay down in their elegant
tunics), the camels and Suqs and
water-pipes, samovars, and beggars wtih
one swollen elephant hand
and rheumy eye asking for
alms and ishallah, ishallah--
no, hippies don't know much about that.

Maybe my mind is in the gutter,
but this image makes my heart aflutter.
Turned me on so much it led
to taking Lightning Rod to bed.

LOL!

have one for me LR!
yowsa! thanks dear zizter!

ren
again i gotta say
man there are times when i dig you
man
i am telling you,
playing some chordz man
i can read your poetic rantz
look up and follow trailz

what i'm saying
ya those minarets
symbols of control
more than enlightenment
and i would not fall down five times daily
prostrate like that
i can do 108 bows in my living room
a real workout!
of course i agree
the silk road not so silky
and we are disillusioned
yet we can remake it
redeem it
in communion.
ain't gonna stop now.
arabesque lines are cool.
you think i am sacharine sweet
not so
only compassion
and celebratory hope.
i draw you a camel stall
they hear the mullah's howl.
but a minaret shining
maybe in a make believe place
maybe after everybody gets stoned
we won't feel so all alone.