STUDIO 51STUDIO 51
This will be poetry of a somewhat disturbing nature, taken from the lives of many people.
(the title is a cross between area 51 & an art studio)
The Cannon of St. Paul's Cathedral
Molasses
and time is molasses when you’re falling into the black hole… Only you can’t stick to anything because everything else is ice. You slide right off, and farther down into the darkness… with nothing to hold on to… And nothing to catch you… the blood keeps flowing… the drain keeps rushing… in concentric circles, flushing you down… and sometimes it’s all that we can do to just hang on… to that slender thread of sugar that won’t let go… that won’t let you drown all the way… you just keep staying there choking… on the lifeline you cling to…
"We're miles away from nowhere
-duran duran
And the wind doesn't have a name
So call it what you want to call it
Still blows down the lane
People tell me I haven't changed at all
But I don't feel the same
And I bet you've had that feeling, too
You just can't laugh all the time
And if the fires burn out,
There's only fire to blame
No time for worry 'cause we're on the roam again
The clouds all scatter and
We ride the outside lane
Not on your own, so help me,
Please hold back the rain
So what if the words ain't rhyming
Did you think that it's just a game
I probably didn't even say that right
And I really don't give a damn
Okay, go off and wander
I'm guilty just the same
Sometimes you're needed badly
So please come back again"
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