Mountains, crooked arms of the moon, send rain, and where you cope.
'Mountains' by Prince started the morning off right, winding around a few stones of Prose., one legendary, preceded by two new bloods whose words cut through like butter beneath blade. Beautiful words from these measured and magnificent artists. Kick back, but also let it all fall off the sides and get into the words of these writers. Smooth and rich, like coffee, like all things that last.
Here's the link to episode 32 on Prose. Radio.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTiBo32fmDs
And here are the featured pieces.
https://www.theprose.com/post/814678/10-minute-walk https://www.theprose.com/post/814650 https://www.theprose.com/post/814328/news-flash-it-appears-that-its-not-so-much-how-you-cope-as-where-you-cope
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
Homeless Eyes
She punctured me from out of glass
Without intent as she strode passed
We broke the barriers of class...
The mask society permits...
To gaze into her windswept eyes...
So hungry and unsupervised...
How many of us still survive
Bouncing upon this rustic plane?...
With judgements quashing liquid hearts...
And pointed views like traffic cones...
It's easier to close the door
Where yowls mutate and turn to roars...
I see her digging through the trash...
This angel from another sphere...
The broadcast she keys in is vast...
Her shirt in shreds, as she draws near...
Ebony skin so dark and deep...
I'll see her when I go to sleep..
She floats over the concrete slabs...
Where shooting stars go flying past...
Bold advertising overhead
Will paint a world unequal to
The broken sequins from the chain
That someone dispelled in the rain...
To gaze into her windswept eyes...
So hungry and unsupervised...
How many of us still survive
Bouncing upon this rustic plane?....
They're closing books on human rights...
Decks are stacked, the lines extend...
Now more than ever, I'll need a friend
To gaze into my homeless eyes...
If you have something left to give...
If you're susceptible, and raw...
If you resist the claw machine
You'll find me dancing by the stream...
Maybe tonight when moonbeams spill
Our sights will lock and without words
We'll shed our chains, the flood within
Will draw us spinning out our skins...
Bunny Villaire
5/6/24
Edit #4
Hot Chocolate, pork and beans and prose, four ladies, spit upon a page, and lemonade air.
A Challenge created by putski brings home the first glance on today's feature on Prose. Radio, where Hot Chocolate bass-lines the morning into the world created by four talents and their heavy lifting of our minds into - then onto, a plateau of a dimension defined by coping, four seasons in heavenly bodies warming by the fire, a madman's babbling, and into the lemonaide air with a flash.
Here's a link to the show.
https://youtu.be/W0u4DfJbSx8
And here are the pieces featured.
https://www.theprose.com/post/814391/the-cheshire-cat-with-a-side-of-pork-and-beans https://www.theprose.com/post/814503/togetherness-for-the-whole https://www.theprose.com/post/814610/i-found-these-things https://www.theprose.com/post/814243
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose team.
A little black dot, balance, decaying leaves, morning dew, and infinite jest.
There's a little black dot on the Sun today... it's the same old thing as yesterday... except for the writers featured on the show. Nothing yesterday about them, until tomorrow, but who puts a timer on art, anyway? In episode 30 on Prose. Radio, the words roll smoothly with the likes of Mariah, area_man, LARGE, The Villaires, and the man of area once more, who closes the show with the complexity of family.
Here's the link to the show.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYvrATECLOQ
And here are the pieces featured.
ttps://www.theprose.com/post/814482/a-violence-unfamiliar-to-most https://www.theprose.com/post/814486/balancing-the-bar https://www.theprose.com/post/814424
https://www.theprose.com/post/814475/first-words-of-day-in-the-morning-dew https://www.theprose.com/post/814476/infinite-jest
And.
As always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
Where It All Began
The first time
I ever did anything wrong
Was the summer of 1974
I had created
A finger-paint masterpiece
By smearing
All of the colors together
Into a murky green
Portrait of God
Look what you’ve done!
My teacher told me
Now it doesn’t look like anything!
Man oh man!
Looking back
I wish
I could have been brave
And known
How to articulate
My feelings
I would have really
Let her have it
Stupid cow
David Burdett
5/4/2024
First Words of Day, in the Morning Dew
Poets.
Where others are tortured
by sleeplessness
We turn torment into art form
And lay into it tooth and nail
With all the entrails
Hanging loose
So juices spill, rolling down
The crevasse...
Blotted up from the chin
onto a diner serviette and
repressed in print...
The pain still fresh expressed
like from a grinding mill
where sand is powdered
into dream...
Sweet is our profession
With the only hand on the call
Box being as transparent as a
Vesper
As it hovers over a heart
In the breaking darkness of dawn
When it has just freshly been Forgiven...
Languid in our vision, as cool
And calm as palm fronds
Swaying as the
Breeze exudes
The breath,
The word becoming new life
As dead sheets are turned...
And the corners are tucked
5/4/24
Bunny Villaire
& Mavia Villaire
Smooth Operator, a jealous heart, a neurotic, reclamation, and let it bleed.
When sentiment is left to chance, thoughts of Sade opens episode 29 on the show, into a perfect hand of five pieces from five writers on the site, up to ride on the airwaves from here, their words into you.
Here's the link to Prose. Radio:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZP9zXwUkek
And here are the pieces featured:
https://www.theprose.com/post/538382/fall-ritual https://www.theprose.com/post/814220/for-clarencet https://www.theprose.com/post/813959/errant-thoughts
https://www.theprose.com/post/814081/reclaiming-me https://www.theprose.com/post/814211/3-kinds-of-followers
And, as always.
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team
Buried Deep
Why does it take so long
To realize the simplest things
That we own are fun for
Other people?....
Hidden away in our treasure
Chest...
...A joke...
A song...
A cryptic verse...
A facial contortion...
A tawdry limerick...
A smile that warms a chilly day...
There are people
Starving like baby
Birds in Indonesia,
But there are also people
Starving right outside your back door...
Hurting to be seen...
Yearning just to care...
The mechanized world hastens
Every New Year
To silence the outpourings
Of the human heart,
But everyone,
Whether society tells us or not
Holds the key
To unlock another person's
Treasure chest
By showing that you're
A good listener,
And cracking wide your soul...
Ah, such a fragrant place
For a new sapling to grow!...
5/2/24
Bunny Villaire
Hot tramp, polite Canadians, indigestion of a comet, and beating the Devil.
Sucked up into his mind, episode 28 rolls in with a quote by David Bowie, and then into a trio of talent not to be missed. LARGE leads the show, into the area of a man, and a deal in Vegas with the fellow below wraps the day. Grab your coffee, and stay a few.
Here's the link to Prose. Radio:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aV62yeSdsLg
And here are the pieces featured.
https://www.theprose.com/post/813671/beyond-remembering
https://www.theprose.com/post/813712/when-is-the-art
https://www.theprose.com/post/813613/the-deal
And.
As always...
Thank you for being here.
-The Prose. team