Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

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I would like to be here later too.
Meanwhile I am happy that you have found something to hang on to.

juxtapositions
I guess I am superstitious
A next to B
as if I could entangle them
at some quantum level

The lies we tell ourselves.

He tells me about his generation
How it is difference
and I tell him he does not need to drink that fith of rum in one night
there is nothing to to prove

It's like when the Dame talks to me.

I went out on a girl's night out Saturday, strawberry D's, live guitar and women together, whilst the men circled around.

One man leaned into me telling me he was enjoying my hair. I think he was about to touch me. I bought the drink, thanked him, smiled, prolly laughed a little, then five minutes later he's a married man with his wife in his good graces. Isn't that a hoot? I find the little things amusing...

Also a guy bud I've known for over 15 years was there to tell me his little flirtatious wrecks. We're out in the dark and he's saying how blue my eyes are, like the sky or like the sea or like blueberries...something blue and I said, "But, how can you see the blue when it's this dark out?"
Men are nuts.

What I know of him is first thoughts.
I'd seen him once run into a room with a group of us in his pink bikini briefs. I'll never forget. It was one of those brilliant and vivid memories of a person that makes ya spark right up to immediate smiles, a little laughter the moment they walk into a room.
Love that stuff.

An adventurous weekend.
Since I never go out much, I'm glad I'd went out.
There is still life in the streets, sometimes.

They're out there
but my interest is in what I've imagined up
and it makes me wonder at what amount of control I might be after
if I've gotta embrace and tangle with my imaginary man to keep my world the way I want.
It's much better in my head.
There's a lot of laughter in bed, story telling, vocabulary and interesting history, there's Shakespeare and e.e. cummings, philosophy and religion, women novelists or men or musicians and magicians entertaining me to win my blushes, to encourage my courage, to get me dressed, undressed, rehearsed and bursting.
It's all in my head.
He might not exist.

At dinner, my girlfriend suggested that I might have a boyfriend after-all, and that some claim I have, she was leaving it open for me to have a say so in the discussion...and I told her if I have then he's been a catfish with a lot of baggage over in noman's land that I can't reach, no matter the want-to, and he's a magician with tricks galore, who can disappear at the drop of his hat, at the same inter-section and a Trucker at 69 climbing for oranges to woo women...they've all with their women and I not too concerned at details cause I go to sleep at night painting them up how I'd like one...
I just bed the artists,
magicians,
baseball stars
and writers,
philosophizing
and praying monks,
dancing seductively to the saxophone.
I'm core
it's all core.

I'm appreciative you've put up with me for so long so far,
but you're right
it'll all melt each lick.
It always does.

But, at least I can fix that if I've the imagination for it.

If I could I'd take him out dancing this night
and I'd drink it with him.
What would become of us...

real time
woo woo woman
I suppose the drive for sex
is a so deeply ingrained
there is no getting over that

Never was much at picking up women
that part was a delusion
it has always been her sticking her foot out and tripping me up
but it at this late date it is all about the young ones
at least for me

discontinuity
dream time
a dream last night about getting a job and not knowing what it was all about then I said Oh I see this is a salesjob.
sales I can do.
Salesman are special with their own brand of miseries
from being alone with their thoughts they got to keep talking
because the silence is scary
and where ever I look I see myself
if I can't have compassion for me
how can I have compassion for anyone else

stream time
nice stream dame
I don't get out very much
and that is the problem
I do not mean to socialize
I mean to move about and shake my pancreas up
got to get out that door.
I am a hell of a wreck
not far from a walker or wheel chair
strokes and heart attacks are immanent.

I got plenty left to loose

Trucking
I always liked that song
I got to get out that door
you are right there is life in the streets
life in walking.
no pain no gain

so many writers suicides
when they get blocked from writing
hard to figure
I suppose that proves I am not a writer
this is nothing but a hassle for me
my life would be sweeter without it

love that banner today

I don't mean to hassle you Jack
shake me off anytime
I'm resilient, all's well between friends
in between souls
I might be an old soul
we'll see.

She'd tripped ya up
ladies go for attention and it'll be exhausting to you men.
A lady in a man's world, a lady of any interest goes out balling fists, goes out dancing in her best dress, gives of her bosom in one way or another, pouts her lips in one way or another, goes in strong, goes in tripping. A lady requires entirely too much attention.

I was thinking about Geoff Parsons when I started this thread. I think he is a talented young writer. I hope his ice cream cone brings him happiness

______________________

I don't know what I am writing here sometimes judging by what you reply
Am I trying to shake you off? This monkey on my back likes to type. That is all. Thanks for being a pen pal. For being a woman who can forget about words.

Tripping up
I guess I was thinking about this scene from the Barbara Stanwyck movie.


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The Spartans had an interesting arrangement for matching up men and woman. They put the women and men in a totaly dark room and the first woman a man touched would be his mate for life. I often wondered if the women scented out the pheromones of the man she wanted and then accidentally bumped up against him in the dark

Whole lot of shaking going on