Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

immersed in erotica
moments from enabling enormity
echo of neighbouring inanity
encroaches on my mind

deep disturbing dissonance
cracks my intention
like an earthquake on a desert isle

crank me together
help!
rescue my fantasy
as abyss sucks us in


judih

spiral worm hole
of eventuality
blind thee, kick in
the behind thee,
till all I see is
powder blue
the chance to
construe, the
drain, the strain
the left out in
the rain, to spiral
down a worm hole.......wired

Once it was enough
to think Be
and he'd appear
like an aphrodisiac enchantor

Be long gone
like a spanish fly
on a distant tongue

mexican jumpin' bean
skitterin' round the
autumn leaves, that
start to fall, and the roll
that led down the hole
paid the toll for Man Ray's
innocence, that we, you and
me can only O say can ya see
waitin' to be stung by a dead bee>..............

the resonance of the symbolism
reverberates down the corridors of my escapism
vibe-erating the panels of the walls against each other's seams
expanding, rubbing, pulsing against each other's dreams
the walls dream of the forests they grew up in
memories of a childhood spent in the thicket
families, apples that fall in the shadows of trees
grander oaks that still sing the hymns
of grander childhoods yet
through broken limbs, arthritic joints and roots that sink into the earth
and then just go on forever
eventually drinking from underground streams
these are the dreams of the walls
that line the grandmotherly corridors
of memory, long and dark and dusty
figurines, old books and bottles,
stimulated in me by the burning scent of each new autumn.