Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

6th Annual Spring Equinox Jam Announcement



Welcome to SPRING!
When up from the earth sprang
hyacinth and jonquils, peonies
and heather, when the weather
sang your name with a hummingbird
tune, when out of your hearts and pens
sprang words, and not a moment to soon...
to celebrate the joy of the cycling seasons!

You are here for a reason, dear friends,
to exchange your vows with the planet,
all enjoined in a union of agreement
to proclaim....

Spring has sprung, the grass is rizz ...
I wonder where the birdies is?




Jam on, brothas & sistas of the pen!
It's great to see you here again!

”A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse;
A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.” (‘Song of Solomon’)

But, can we get ‘spring’ to “shut up”?
Is it even possible to simply lower the volume of chirping birds, bugs, and frogs, intent on a cacophony of mating mayhem? How to end the deafening explosions of bursting buds in the too soon bloom of their youth’s flower? What of the Earth tremors and rumblings of sprouting sprouts, too eager to come out? All these born from deafening hours of thundering spring showers -- cracking tree limbs, and soil, alike. No more can we still these raucous spring things than end the rhythmically loud squeaking springs of the mating bed. “Yes, Yes! Don’t stop!” Don’t even try to quiet the riot racket of spring. You’ll never be able to get her to “shut up.”

equal
all things
it's "spring"
sun is shining
it's sweet
playing a show
cat's eye pub
fells point ~ baltimore
tomorrow night
in flight
w/the tt tucker band
the land warm
the jam sticky
1st thought rules
finishing the dharma bum's
jack ruled
bodhisattva take me by the hand
show me the smile in your japan
the sparkle in your china
thank you steely dan
let's jam!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

springs the thing
full of that warm zing
time to blow kisses
to disappearing snow
let all the doldrums go
get outside say hello
to neighbors and crocus
birds flying low
reelin' in the springtime jam
with josie, peg & aja
becker & fagan
ain't nobody beggin'
laying down the jazz
spring razz ma tazz
everyone has
the fever
of a spring fling
the ring, the bling
it's a damn good thing

Aries

Warrior fire blazing
the trail of battle
Lighting the night in
song and story
walking in glory
(Look at you!
You know we do,
checking you out,
'cause you so fine.)
Smiling sunshine or throwing
angry clouds
you thrill the crowds,
keep us all in line
with that arching frown,
then play the clown
and we all applaud.
May I say, I am awed by
the way your presence echoes,
keeps time and space at bay
as if you create each new
dawning day

....in a bush by the garden wall
sits a brace of plump cardinals
as the sun finds its way
through the tangle of trees

she is clad in a cloak of shades
of the earth, of the forest made
subtle browns, and russets
and rusts make her raiment

while her mate, in his fierce attire
wears a coat wove of molten fire
from the core, from a crucible
never to cool

she attends to the seeds that lie
with her mate standing guard nearby
winter wrens and robins
attend from the woodpile

holding court from the break of day
while nearby gypsy titmice play
calling thrice, but denied
by their hiding friend peter

in good stead to this queen and king
overhead, the sun awakening
winter banished, and vanishing
from this enchantment....

steady like the
movement of the sun
walking most everywhere
chalk in hand....chalk in hand
words they wrote
are washed away
but never forgotten

me and lrod by doreen a few new year's back....

PURPLE MARTIN SONG: When the birds return to Chattanooga
[To my Family and also in memory of Tom Varner. (After the Blizzard of 1993)]

By Steve Plonk
I remember all of you
When the purple martin’s return to Chattanooga
When the birds come home to stay awhile
Until cold temperatures pass away
This March afternoon—a new season.

I cling to Spring like a freezing man,
Awaiting winter thaw—
Winds may blow like the floodgates maw,
Or like a dynamo spinning in a nearby dam—
The lake projects the blue sunshine
Of flickering beams upon new dreams
Of merry times which should never die.
The purple martins roost in trees
After flying like “V” formation hawks—
Nature’s early warning system of
Tornado winds and winter melt,
Winds pelt dust and pollen
Upon our brow as we projectile
Our kites and gliders at the skies
My memories unravel during our fun
When the purple martins come,
I hear them sing as I am now—
A hope for eternal Spring—
When birds return to Chattanooga.

Keeper of her interest
at the Chattanooga motel
down by the water
where the Fat Cat goes obliging
she's taller than the mirror
and two feet shorter than him
she's a bed-head masterpiece
though he don't care for extravagance
nor propping her up on down silks anyway.

Just a couple meeting up
for quick fixes and exchanges
coffee AMs and blowing smoke
at the river image unwinding
there at Chattanooga,
meeting from the Fat Cat
I've got your number on my hand
if ever I need the romance.

SPRING!
Oh man, let me at her
let me spring into her lap
with cheering and chatter
let me at her
I've waited so long
mustn't push mustn't shove
ain't gonna shovel no more no more

Looky here looky here
a jam for the spreading
and not a bread slice in sight
so I'll lay it on thick
on this page and wash it down
with a click and submit

A stumbled upon jam
in the midst of my plight
think I'll sit here for awhile
and just read and just right!

The red-winged blackbirds were chortling at me just this morning,
they spoke of spring and the sweet summer's coming.
I couldn't believe my ears so I called them both liars;
but the chickadee chuckled, in a right feathery mood
stating categorically that the cabin fever was
playing havoc with my mind. She said, Ms Chickadee did,
"You must be blind!" And I concurred, "I MUST BE BLIND!"
Look around!
Spring is springing up allover!

And not a moment to soon!

taking my spring in stride
i amble over to the jam
walking an orange grove
watching the corn inch higher
my mind is calm, secure
and if it rains while i'm hiking
i know all the more
it's spring frivolity
to take as it is

a spring, a doorway
from darkness to less
from mid-year to this
a turn of the mind
wake-up call
to all

an amble in jam
words stepping lively
two step four step six step
eight. studio eighters
promenade, spring to the fore
perambulate

Leaving town by express hitch style
she hitched with the red-tipped gatekeeper
of her time and space
of her threatening boundaries
forward bound with fists and thigh now
giving her sense to the chickadee
who'd lock her up--sound
"Put me over! I'll not stay out of border
when I'm destined and found!"

But the bird only puffed larger
and silent he drove
with keys clinking, the windows down
while her heart thumped, thumped, thumped.

jam-a-da-jam
how many years?
like an illusion
but it's not confusin'
the mo is getting slower
but i know there's
a whole lotta
jam splorer's out there
on the fringe
floatin'
flowin'
jammin'!!!!!!!!