Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i don't know how
to do anything
except say i love you
boil rice
and ask
where we goin?

we rumblin', tumblin'
even movin' when sittin'
we rollin' thru star sheens,
bowlin' the bright night pins,
'til the pure silver dawns
on winter-white lawns.

I'm just one rhymin' fool.
I make no sense.
No sense at all !

a new challenge
fitbit enters my life
attach or detach?

dream night
apocalypse
wave upon wave
coming in
towering above
the structures
we run laughing
for some reason
leaving the job
behind with the
waves crashing
over L.A.
then a lull sets in
at a place where
the buildings end
should we go back?
sure that all is chaos
a no smoking sign
appears, cigarette
smell toxic, like poison
a guy roasting bbq
hotdogs with pig heads
attached to em
ribs, chicken oozing
bbq sauce, "do you smoke?" he says
it's a festival of smoke
in a no smoking zone
L.A. wacko land

activate your celtic gen
paint & comb your hair
dress with contrasting colors
find a hat & a feather
jump to your terrace
& sing like a mix of St Francis
& an old english pub habitué
(all with a wrinkle & a wink!)

snores like choirs of angels
all my sons on makeshift mattresses
sunk deep into sleep

wham - not all time goody body marches the bluejay
to the blue indian whose teeth are waiting for him towards the end -
that's what he gets for eating white man food & sending email to grey sky whose cousin dove down in the sea to kiss octopus pussy

look ma no hands

the stubborn dog fighting the walk there will be dead bird meat for dinner
the entertainment value of anything is direct ratio to the boredom of the viewer - so there Mr./Mrs. Artist, put that in your smoke & pipe it
imagine the salt miner stuck in his shaft as news to use to map unskinned rabbit just the other side of high school 200 feet off the ground @ 700 miles an hour we blowing got us in the convoy duck rubber capable

hell it's cold in here

gonna need more than this t-shirt
somebody see to the fire please
because here comes elizabeth taylor's ghost dancer
without a shred of antelope, all heat &
- wireless

the collective t-shirts that today are available in these lands say:
"sinceration of the economy" & "the three fugitives now in Santa Fe"
in fact they saturated the market & they are hard to sell
but maybe the objective is that you read them over and over
talk about it & wonder at the same time who would wear that...?!
(& it´s also suspected that one of the legends is for a weird kind of entertainment)

from surreal lands
i wander, bowl upon
bowl of capn' crunch
oozing from my
everafter spelled together
burning giraffe manes
were never in the
dalinian equation hung
on the museum wall
at the top of marble stairway
more than 20 foot tall
like a mirror beckoning
in all it's zoot suited lustre
"come back in time"
like a shadow voice, a dr. sax
whispering, "kerowack....kerowack!"
as the heaters fan raged into
dawn.....

i'm blowing right toward it
jamming the damned
galilee seabird on a stick
it's my imagination wont stop
as i split wood
& walk over snow
if you meet Dr. Sax on the road
write a poem across his eyeballs
write a poem across his toes !

Ain't it a HELL of a GRAND day, Jammers!!!!!

welluvaday
helluvaday
i can smell
the day
dwell in it
repel down the
cliff face with it
a helluva ride

Yeah, now we hittin' those notes,
careenin' crazily from dark brick walls,
wailin' and waftin' out like smoke rings.

rising like mists
on himalayan flights
andean mysteries
where the inca bask
in the rays of the sun
traversing the isles
of polynesia letting
the moon and stars
be our guide
continuing spirits
laughing it all the way
never counting on nothing
just watching and letting
it all slide slowly like the turning
of the seasons of which we are one
of which we are one......

do we slide or plop
into what awaits us
from anticipation to mundane
how do we live our days
am i semi-awake
a scratch on a car door
how did i get here?

how long have i been sleeping
last thing i recall
a trip into mindspace
45 years ago
no
there were more seconds
a few that stand out
a collection of minutes
like a fill-in-the-blank
that speaks no language

what am i saying
even i can't hear the sense
declaration of freedom
or confession of doubt
don't answer
no need to add commas
move on to the next act