Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

out of our right minds
we would rely on a left
bipedal biorbital
heartbeaten footfalls
associations drawn
rights and wrongs
till it all blends to one

.


found an indian guide
in mexican hat
he would take me on the res, take me back
and over the slick rock
to the cliff dwelling

12 cans of beer is all he want
didn't realize he'd drink them all
before we ever got there
which we never did
cos after we used the first spare
and the sun retreated quickly behind the hills
i got stupidly scared

his little dog followed the four wheel drive
i offered it water it didn't want

what a strange place
what a strange land
"you find gold up here
in the dips and holes, heavy,
so it stays put
while everything else blows off.. "



.

.



missed the trailhead at grand gulch
walked half a day along the rim
the promise of springs indicated on the crude map
fall away like a dream in elevation below me

headed south across the high desert
pottery untouched in a hundred years
found a wash
i'll follow it down
a twenty foot drop at the end will kill me

walked the rest of that day and into the night
build a fire in the wash
sitting quietly with remorse
the bullfrog, seeing some portal, jumped into the flame
his seared belly, weeping on the rock
water is heavy to carry
and i might have enough for a day

by mid morning i had reached the gulch
red rocks smoothed
by deluge after deluge
dropped away two hundred feet below me
nowhere near the bottom
and a full day's walk from the road



.

smooth riff from the e-piph
drop hot rocks in my canteen
coffee on the way
the buzzard screams
another day

wipin the sleep from
my eyes, reading
nights flurry, place of
purple majesties abound

Today Today
is a journey
I will do naught
but what I please

the morning is mine
and the evening
the night belongs to you

Dont Start Me Talkin'

Blues for a Saturday morning

The Mighty Angelbull Vibrational Band

Brahma of San Antonio on harp
Chocolate Chip singing

first band I ever played with, thirty years ago

what a journey

thank you Sonny Boy

the cars, buses & motorcycles
the ship´s sirens
(I can see how the river looks like today)
some far away voices arguing
my neighborg´s bathroom
the birds
the elevator
the wind in the persianas
(sounds of a misty morning
while I´m still in bed)

I was just sitting
but you read it different,
they offered me wine & conversation
(a peculiar one)
& asked me to take him some photos
he smiled and said that he wanted my photos...
then, you came
said your name
said that you like the place, the music and the cause
and in a weird and polite language
offered me your cuatro por cuatros
to help me, to help him and to help the others
I could only laugh
and tell you
if you could take us a photo

silence on the streets this morn
lil dog sleeping in kitchen....sprawled
cloudy and cool.... wooosh of cars on
lombard street, an electric hummmmmmmm
pervades............

I barely remember my lobotomy
it seemed like such a simple thing
to reach from the night into the morning
I'm a sucker for a dream

Love is a journey
not a destination
it releases, not captures

the morning has a smell
much richer than coffee
it's prism breaks the light

I've never experienced love without a noose.
I've always been strangled and bound in the dark
never to break free from the memories of time
living in a nightmare that has stifled my rhyme
as the ink drips on the paper like the tears from my eyes.

without love?????????
come on, let's mas rapido Jam
times a wastin', let's roll with flow