Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

one crazed lunatic
one obsessed maniac
one fabulous soloist

and then another

another
determined fool rushes in
spooky google searches
making good on promise
no bizz like the show
that must go on
in this perpetual jam
hammer hammer!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fools rush in when others cower
or are they courageous wordsmiths
the manufacturers of phrases big and small
the jammers of the gears in their oily jammies
all it takes is a little free time and a few working fingers
and off we go down the rabbit holes of timeless expression
jimmy jam gin joint with a cyber audience of a few
sitting in their electronic caves with bloodshot eyes
and an itch or two to say something
or nothing.....that's the beauty of the jam
there are no grades.....no final exam
it's the caring that counts, the determination
to keep something alive
something extraordinary in many ways
something important perhaps, but not on the level
of a virus vaccine

jam for a cure
if only there was a vaccine for the white man's god

abstraction of haiku
From that sacred core
That burns inside of me

just floating with wireman

"a condor floatin
on warm thermals
to be exact..........glidin along the sheer rock faces
no flappin......just floatin........"

Returning from Oblivion: Imaging the Neural Core of Consciousness

wireman lives on
in the hearts and minds
of everyone he touched
and the perpetual jam
cannot be stopped as long as there is electricity
and working computers
and even then maybe it would go underground
passed around like crib sheets
table to table ....in the US Mail
maybe the neo Paul Revere would mound his steed
and yell out the latest post
and ride off into the night

saw wrote: ↑

November 23rd, 2020, 9:37 am

wireman lives on
in the hearts and minds
of everyone he touched
and the perpetual jam
cannot be stopped as long as there is electricity
and working computers
and even then maybe it would go underground
passed around like crib sheets
table to table ....in the US Mail
maybe the neo Paul Revere would mound his steed
and yell out the latest post
and ride off into the night

...or maybe
like farenheit 451
we the people
become the books
the storytellers around the fire
recounting the day's hunt
and hunts from long ago

making sense of the non
we got to jam
its in our bones
i love you all without saying
give thanks in the giving

jam we must
lest we fall into the quagmire of reality
this crazy place where up is down
the jam is the balance, like the forest
the antidote to madness

up is upper plateauing to upness
jam the compass for open sesame
words released from hidden caverns
a magic carpet away

a winter's day jam
snow sifting down from grayscale skies
to a black & white world...
power flickering, but still flowing
the occasional rumble of snowplows
from the road 100 ft away
whence I found
the season's first Christmas card ambush
in the mailbox
a near-empty stein of Guinness sits beside me
an email from my sister just arrived
and the snow is slowing
slow snow, slow
2 inches is plenty
we don't need the forecast 6-8
but thanks anyway

entangled up in jam we must
spooky connections in time and space
in the cloud of electromagnetic waves shrouding the worldwide web

we children of the earth
know time

each of us
connected by letters on a screen
making magic in our brains
be you east west north or south
up down or in between
it makes me smile
lets go

onward poets poets of the jam
march into the holidaze with joy
push those keys with thoughts of a new year
an horizon of hope and healing
countdown the days of the mean 2020
the ogre of a year gone by
that monstrous expression of time
we'd possibly like to forget....quarantine days
quarantine knights with lances drawn
to chase away the bugs
santa is bringing a vaccine in a bag
and of course a little sweet jam

hike with me into the great forest of jam
step by step we will keep the jam alive
a little of this and a little of that there,
sure, pick only the low hanging fruit if you like
or climb to the top branches and get a real view
one foot in front of the other in front, in front
bring your thermos of coffee and a jelly roll
roll around in a field of smashed blueberries
stain your mind with memories of the original
perpetual jammer, Mr. wireman himself, I only
throw on my backpack to honor the man with vision
a jam that couldn't die