Jam it out!... Let's GO!

Oct 2004
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WIREMAN
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Jam it out!... Let's GO!

Post by WIREMAN » October 12th, 2004, 9:40 am

wired and on the run
clandestine man jumpin
from the fire...back up
and sizzlin' in the fryin' pan
and the hope is just, gotta
find that rope and grasp....................

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singlemalt
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Post by singlemalt » October 12th, 2004, 9:43 am

second to the jam
gotta call me the man

I understand it
and I'm in total command of it

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WIREMAN
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Post by WIREMAN » October 12th, 2004, 9:46 am

ya took a stand and
became the man....me
I'm wired and on the run
pirating this puter ...just
tryin' ta have a bit of
quicky fun.............................

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Lightning Rod
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Post by Lightning Rod » October 12th, 2004, 9:58 am

Baltimore Ballad

I went to the rusted red brick city of Baltimore
In my half century I had never been there
but it felt like I was coming home.

I don't know if Poe was my ancestor
but my great-grandparents lived here shortly after
that night when the raven pecked on his window.

My great-grandfather was a wealthy man who
owned half of the warf district, I am told,
and he was a famous philanderer.

He gave my great-grandmother a case of the clap
and she divorced him for it because penicillin hadn't been invented.
The cures they had then were worse than the disease.

She settled for a rooming house in DC
and lived to be 93. Going Back
to Baltimore feels like full circle to me.
"These words don't make me a poet, these Eyes make me a poet."

The Poet's Eye

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sooZen
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Post by sooZen » October 12th, 2004, 10:14 am

just a tip of the jam
and I must work
the studio calls
the truck must be packed
again...

my spirit is here
so is my heart
or at least a piece
peace

hope your jam
is tasty and the flavor
lingers!

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Lightning Rod
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Post by Lightning Rod » October 12th, 2004, 10:18 am

Ok, let me put a bass line down....

it's kind of a running bass--eighth notes

think Route 66

lets talk about the geography of the soul

and travelling

and your favorite cities

tell me about Paris or Albequerque or Negril
"These words don't make me a poet, these Eyes make me a poet."

The Poet's Eye

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Lightning Rod
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Post by Lightning Rod » October 12th, 2004, 10:28 am

Carl Sandburg (1878–1967).  Chicago Poems.  1916.

 

1. Chicago

 




 

      HOG Butcher for the World,

      Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,

      Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler;

      Stormy, husky, brawling,

      City of the Big Shoulders:
    

 

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.

And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.

And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.

And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:

Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
        

Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,

      Bareheaded,

      Shoveling,

      Wrecking,
   

      Planning,

      Building, breaking, rebuilding,

Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,

Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,

Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
      

Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse. and under his ribs the heart of the people,

                Laughing!

Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
"These words don't make me a poet, these Eyes make me a poet."

The Poet's Eye

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Lightning Rod
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Post by Lightning Rod » October 12th, 2004, 10:39 am

When I Jam by myself, I just split in two
like East and West Berlin

Lightning Rod sits by himself playing the bass
early hours lonely as NewArleans.
I'm a smokey nightclub on the Left Bank of the Sane
1920's Berlin lika Buddha Pest
but I remember Jerusalem with not one brick on top of the other
I'm a Dresden China closet with a Guernica bull struggling for destruction.

I'm a Jonestown massacre chased by a San Francisco Earthquake
I'm a Boston Tea Party and a New York minute.
I'll Prague you with my Bay-root.
"These words don't make me a poet, these Eyes make me a poet."

The Poet's Eye

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WIREMAN
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Post by WIREMAN » October 12th, 2004, 1:51 pm

well I come from southeast D.C. with
a roll a wire in my hands...I'm goin' to
good old Baltimore to hook up with
my special friend....now sometimes
I'm a free man, at other times I'm tied
up and when I get with ya all later
we will drink from the poetry cup...........

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Doreen Peri
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Post by Doreen Peri » October 12th, 2004, 4:18 pm

work world's got me on the run
can't write poetry 'til i'm done
almighty dollar's got me by da throat
stopped by quick to drop you this note
wish i could play but da man says no
maybe tonight i can be in the show
work world's got me on the run
can't write verse until i'm done
maybe once the sun's gone down
you'll see my face and pen around....
damn! that dollar's made me a slave
when poetry writin' is all i crave!

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WIREMAN
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Post by WIREMAN » October 12th, 2004, 4:25 pm

standing in the middle
cyber sparks on the rise
I'll tell ya bout places I been
people I've known...times before
when....and the again...how bout
Amarillo in '63.....or 68 and the riots in D.C.
way back when in 69 Palo Alto High......
on the boardwalk in Atlantic City in 65 with
Satchmo blowin his horn right over my
12 year old head......smokin joints with
mojo nixon in nags head......jerry and merl at the
marin civic center in 73.....neil and the allmans jammin
with b.b. king in baltimore in 72......madam's organ and the birth of the bad brains in 79 and 80 also 81.....livin in the country and buildin a outdoor sculpture park circa 90-92..........findin sowebohemian heaven in 96.....and a certain flame that would endure to this very day-o......where are the bohicans the bop prosody barons and baronesses...did ya see that 3rd man pull him from the street.......the bizouki playin' sure was a treat...the Band played it on moondog matinee....do ya remember when it was a quarter and a soda a dime and a baby ruth a nickle and a penny was more than a copper thing layin' in the gutter.....boppin with billie and miles and bird and of course the trane, can't foreget mose allison sayin'..."tell me somethin' that I don't know"..........

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Arcadia
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Post by Arcadia » October 12th, 2004, 7:33 pm

I can tell you about Prague in 1900
the streets of Salta in the early afternoon
the oranges in Tucumán
the wind in Trelew on october 12th eleven years ago
the earth is Misiones
the orange juice in the mornings in Buenos Aires
the sea and second hand books in Villa Gesell
& infinite sunsets by the Paraná

but...

post-weekend-instant-karma got me
lights are already turn on
mate, coffee, yesterday´s rests
pens and papers are ready

hey. Mr. Time... don´t you want to take a ride
I can sell you tickets
there are so beautiful places!

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WIREMAN
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Post by WIREMAN » October 12th, 2004, 7:37 pm

"is anybody out there?" he said with a sideways
glance to the 7-21 0f the silent clock that had put
perchance to the test.......o to jam was the thing
the ceremonies about to begin...is it just a feeling
got me wired and reeling....rope-a-dope....awaitin'
that lightnin' punch....or perhaps the thoughts of
an empty mind......judih's down which is damn near enuff
to make a wired man frown......yet as I put my ear
to the ground I hear hoof beats....distant.....yet I
hear them anyway.....the buzz that's eminating from
perhaps we all do have to face the music.....but ahhhh
to dream of words flowing......like angel falls cascading
a mile down the milky way.......like the ocean's surge on a mixed up cosmococcic blue highway.....like the feeling when yer pencil broke
like the first time ya watched cheech and chong in up in smoke...I the wired one with endless breath and energy and knowing there is no place to hide.....my thoughts rambling down the bop prosody freeway....free ...o say can ya see?????????....me and my dog zaar we were up at ft. mchenry...just a few minutes ago the star spngled show....the play that was o say can ya see ...and now at the end of this 20 + hours day....and now with the lil energy I have left...I'm trying to say....."COME ON LET'S JAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

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WIREMAN
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Post by WIREMAN » October 12th, 2004, 7:41 pm

upon a sea of serene bliss a ship
sinks in the sand of mind and the
rat a tat begins once more...I still hear the hoof beats
and I feel the thunderous power coming from the south
and from the northwest this ancient vessel does find landfall.....

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mnaz
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Post by mnaz » October 12th, 2004, 8:01 pm

kick out the jams, the rox...
playin' hooky outta the box,
doin' time, hangin' from a greased second hand,
slidin' off at five or six, half-passed,
into wormholes, keyholes, manholes,
no more will valjean trudge sludge,
even if the occasional lyric I fudge....

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