Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The M(Earth) Word Jam - May 9-18, 2009
.........

And now it's time! Jam on this thread
when you get out of bed
and before you go back to it.
Or sometime in between.
Doesn't matter. Let's just do it!

You might be wondering
what the heck M(Earth) is.
Well so are we, so it's time
you defined it. Let your spirit run
free.... let go and unwind it!

Let us celebrate the written word,
the Earth, our home, the roaming
of our souls, the love that holds us
together, the places we have been,
the adventures we discover, the ones
we move to, the ones we leave,
our diadem, crowned with the
honor to breathe!

Here's the announcement!
>About The M(Earth) Jam ... Join us!

.........

Jam Notes & Suggestions:
I suggested "Mother Earth Jam" since Sunday is Mother's Day and recently we celebrated Earth Day. Judih named the Jam "M(Earth)" (as in "mirth" ... http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/mirth ...) combining the two, so let us let the gaiety and laughter ensue! Feel free to post your Earth photos, drawings, artwork, etc (your files must be hosted somewhere else like photobucket or flickr and referred to here using the img code). The Earth is a big theme! Have fun with this!

earth and i have memory
recorded -- darwin collects bones
and skulls for breaking.
taking evidence, dissecting in an attempt
to determine age - the art of explanation
is a scientific rage. -- even
sages cannot configure loops,
repeats, echoes, recordings,
recordings of previous and future
proceedings, warnings which may
or may not have been announced.

nobody can see future tense
when stars are appearing, though the
nearing of a telescopic lens
has been rumored to help.

seasons are the salt.
seasons of thyme.
seasons of art.
seasons of recourse.
seasons of disappointment.
seasons of elated value.
seasons of depletion and
stolid fall.
seasons of the all
of summer, sun drenched
by tide, wide arms outstretched
for creation.
seasons of vibration
and violation,
seasons of white
snow below leathered
boots.

earth and i have memory
recorded - mud youth
trodden, remembered,
forgotten, hated,
fondly held,

welled up into a new
recycling -- Love,
awakening

falling out of a spaghetti pot
i colander my strands
my whimsical pasta mind
all born and raised right here
in a microbiotic location, DNA summation
bursting forth to gather sauce
zucchini and zest
eat my mind, dig in

My DNA is a mobius strip.
I slide on the outside, slip
to the in.

I don't know where I end
and where I begin.

Kitchen Coast

shake, rattle and roll
castanet calligraphies
monkey creativity
100th monkey and we're there

The earth is trashed.
And so is the gang
which hangs out
at the 7-11.

County removed the
pay phones to try
to discourage drug
deals.

Little did they know
they'd just use their cells.
Duh.

Rap ringtones.
Dime bags cost 50.
Inflation.

They buy an ice cream cone,
two bags of chips and a hot dog,
sit on the curb right by the dumpster.
Scarf it down, drop their trash in the street.

Meet up with a drive-by van,
make their trade, cash for a buzz,
get trashed in the alley,
come back for more.

Another score, another hot dog
loaded with condiments, toss the
cardboard on the asphalt.

I once asked the 7-11 manager
if they had a recycling bin.
He looked at me like I had 3 heads.

Ring. Ring. Rap ringtones.
Dingaling's copping a rock.
They think this is ecstasy.
Livin' for the day.

The earth is trashed
and so are they.

Arouse
with earth
crammed your head,
the wholesum of it,
throbbing
at squeeze level,
your pounding heart
in your eardrums,
marching
towards unearthliness,
in a scramble
for that glimpsical answer,
to forever rock you,
in one tombstone line,
that confirms
your visit,
and your fondest
and most
satisfied,
farewell.

I turn over the earth
with a pitchfork, work
the soil until my muscles
ache, break the ground,
dig the holes, plant the seeds,
cover, water, dirt beneath
my nails, sun sweat drip
on my brow.

And oh how
I love the nightfall,
work complete, my sweet
garden in bloom, catching
moonrays on petals,
leaves at rest and
me blessed with a
lemonade on a front
porch lounge watching
stars shine on the peonies!

Oh lordy
I am running down a two lane road where Kerouac rode on a flat bed truck
the fm radio is playing a song from some station in a little cow town in the middle of nowhere

"I'll be with you till the phones go out
till the chrildren burn the town down"

I am a sunseeker
waiting for the sunburst sky
wondering why
I wonder why

blindfolded, spun round
whatcha get? a dizzy romeo
and an all-girl band
zapping guitar riffs
low-down bass, capulet oh montague
don't turn that dial
rev'er up a notch

on dark plrairies of my McHolyland
I can see the night sky full of stars and signs
I love that feeling of tender indiffernce



poor romeo
love stinks

cooked saturday breakfast
<> check
voted like a good citi-zen
<> check
veggie garden fertilized...
<> check
washed my clothes
<>check
clean sheets on the bed
<> check
take a much needed nap
<> check
m(earth) day jammin'
<>what the heck
check out the jams
<>check
wham bam do the jam -

overly friendly sun beaming with
laser shot rods into the earth's side
sunny side up and where's the cup
i need some juice ... drying out
like a sponge on a lizard's rock
aint no crock got to liquefy
before i die and go to my heaven
roaring without leaven, slapslap
gimme seven - i'm on suntime

night or day
dark or light
moon or sun
I wonder why
do I love the sky

you did your laundry, did you wash your socks A man can't have too many socks

or sisters.