Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

how stinky rose the fetid breath
of serendipity
where fell I hard
upon the thorn
and bled profusedly
I laugh at all the dancers there
who choose to woo set free
as if their steps were stepping stones

to

l
o
v
e

and

h
a
p
p
y

you fell upon the thorn
and bled

me too

it's time for roses again
here's one for you

Oh my, well isn't that precious sweet!

You are one smooth fellow
scarce as hell
and then show up with a rose in your teeth

and a teddy bear
ready to cushion any falls.

Thank you kind sir.

speaking of thorns... here's one thorny fella:



but sooo solitudinal!

Solitudinal. You hit that thorn on the head just right.

Always just on the periphery. Kind of looking in but not quite a fit. Too insecure to settle right in. And maybe doesn't want to. I liken to the notion of going for a walk and stumbling upon sudden discovery, browsing a moment, drinking in, assailed by the pleasure of it and continuing on in memory, but never, not ever looking back. Well, what does that mean...search me.

Beautiful thorny fellow. I think the outwardest thorny fellows are the juiciest and mellowest within.

Thanks for the beauty, mt, the spiny beauty.

guess i'm smooth within tooo
but my rancor goeth deep
and sustains me
tho i am not in competition with the desert wanderer
he compliments me too
in good company
a moment of querilous quasi-serendipity
and then the descent
once again
into the abyss
my wounds
to nurture
not fester
to prick and heal
blessings
to those who are wounded
and heal
moment to moment

Oh you're luscious and juicy inside, jimbo.

Be careful of the rancor thorns
that jab inwardly
for gentle beings throb
at the wounds unseen

Better to be an outward prickly thorn
for there will always be those
who venture forth
regardless of the pricks and ouchful stabbings

*virtual hug to all my friends here*

Ah jimbo
he leadeth me to the adrenalin shakes
ah jimbo my brother my self

turkey buzzard sitting on a pole
fresh meat
dead squirrel
sitting waiting for the stink

thanks for writing mousey you always get me to howling at the moon