Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I can't rest in my me-ness
I can't
it's a squirm
a wiggle
a jiggle
a discomfort that me
is out of turn
odd man out
the shout that refuses to whisper
the infinitesimal good fucking grief of it all
the call in the wild
the silent tree fall
when no one's around to listen
I can't rest in my me-ness
and there's a poem in there somewhere
screaming to get out

control

expectations first took the step
tripped down somersaulted around
wiped their feet on the bristling hedgehog
seemed to know they were homeward bound
with a whistle clean getaway

well I suppose it disappoints - this written everything
but it is where I lose control
cast aside the reins and ride
spurned on by just a simple need
to say

to say

and know you're listening

with open arms

sometimes a fear is just a fear of expectation
nothing there but fear itself
and we know well the depth of that emotion
I have no heart for it
my arms are open

sometimes there is doubt when doubtful is
simply just the doubters way
stop. detour. nothing there to see.
come here
my arms are open

sometimes monsters under beds
are but creaking springs inside our heads
nothing lurking there but you uncertain
look to me
my arms are open

sometimes we think we know ourselves
and know the mind of someone else
but it is only voiceless lies
notions we devise
ignore them love
my sweetest love

my arms are open




http://www.radioblogclub.com/open/12242 ... The%20Same

ying yang
pleasure pain
longing pining away

i can not even come close to your 1ex·qui·site bejeweled flowing
pleasure pain
i could just lose control sometime and let you know what i mean

i just wrote a ditty about ny new used mercedes benz suv and i was inspired
and sometimes i will rant and get really flowing
then review and measure, but wiith spontanaity as the key

these words of yours are so full and rich in feeling, sensations of longing and emptiness,
maybe even un·re·quit·ed love?

tho i have been lax lately at studious eight due to stuff
sorry sistah
you move me deeply with your ability to be sensuous
either expliciit or not
crazy expressive skills you have
complimented with your silly side,
witty and complete.

yin yang
the cosmic bang
you turn me on
and want you to know
carry on

carry on

don't stop

i hope you find completeness i really do
why else would we all be here?
we're on a caravan

i am a turtle
would risk being road kill to get to you
one webbed step
look listen
hope there's a turtle crossing sign nearby
don't see no tracks

just my instinct
to who or whom
to whom ever
your heart's affection aspires
would hope they have a clue
whatever it takes to get to you
and stay there

yet your longing burns like a blue flame
or a snuffed candle
smoky whiffs of perfumed sighs

can't yu see i wanna be
there with open arms
in your playlist of songs
acoustic and electric

twang!
oops,just popped a string
(hope it wasn't a gee)
oh mercy me, sigh.

my wife is still sleeping
sunday morning sweetness.
storms moving in.

wind and rain
pleasure pain
together apart
mend or break my heart
it's not your fault
just stirring embers in the hearth.

How lovely. Jimbo you big softy.

Such lovely sentiments you posted here. So sweetly expressed. You do my heart good.

and speaking of heart strings, I do believe you just twanged one of mine.

I forever and shall always be a fan of the spontaneous. For it speaks of the unguarded, the open gate where the chosen few may enter. If it creaks so much the better, perhaps then some one can oil it.

I'm glad you're back on a more regular basis Jimbo. As you say, we are all here for a reason and so, may this little gypsy "caravan" continue.

still not spending mucho tiempo here at the studio of late
but will be here for a long time
spontanaity
swilling in your wonder and wild women ways

Thanks bud.

My insecurities get the best of me sometimes. Positivity and encouragement soothe like nothing else. So thank you.

I'm trying to inch my way back into the site more myself. I, for the most part, stay here in the bowels of my mousey den. Wretching and plopping plopping and wretching. Not to disgust you, but your words of appreciation and encouragement are akin to holding my hair back off my face while I'm bent over the bowl spewing forth. Now ain't that a visual we could all do without?...Never the less tis heart felt. And it's a goodly thing.

anyway...

Beneath the skin
there lies
the truth

I used to think that truth was all there is and should be
lies get us nowhere
a cover
a shroud
now I'd give my skin for some of those sweet little lies
because therein is love
sweet little lies come from the heart and tis there they become
the finest truth

sometimes we think we know ourselves
and know the mind of someone else
but it is only voiceless lies
notions we devise
ignore them love
my sweetest love

this is potentially true of anyone
one day my wife could simply decide that she has had enough of me
happened a couple of weks ago
we gotr back from vacation, i went out back to che shed and tooted a joint,
had none on vacation
also let the cats out back to play in the dirt

she went bezerk

now she knows that the cats will not run away
she almost said the heck with it

i am an outlaw living inside the status quo\

ah well, frustrations get the best of us all from time to time

"an outlaw living inside the status quo"
now them be some shoes that pinch...or boots.

well, boots in the ass, we all get those
even need those
a toe of perspective
but a boot in the ass
laced with care and concern
and not just one's own self interests

hey ho jimbo
life is just a bowl of cherries
and the sweetest ones often seem to have the hardest pits