Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The call comes
while days & nights
pass,

a candle flickers,

who's that coming,
baby who's that?

Silence beneath
the crescent moon,

voices echo that
which was yesterday,

who's that coming,
baby who?

who's that coming,
baby who's that?

If Custer had
only known,

glistening chains
were the best
of days,

who's that coming,
baby who's that?

who's that coming
baby who?

(for my friend and compadre Carl Mullins died 04.20.07)

hey wireman
my regards to your
heart
as it drips and bleeds
as a soft steep free bird flees down the page and man
i know this life
the death and strife
the bony finger tap toe
of jack
frost
knockin' to go
and i am irish you see
so to me
death is a given
yet i raise my glass to you and your kind


~ slainte ~

it's a train
coming fast

Larry
I meant to see him one more time
but the train has passed
Gone two years but I only found out the other day
I feel like he just died.

My condolences wireman
I am talking to Larry right now
So maybe it is not too late
And there will be another train coming on the hour.

back from the trip
down southern maryland way
thanks for caring my friends
I'm real glad i went and saw carl 6 weeks ago
at the hospital in baltimore.........

Good for you mark
I am glad you saw him too

I got to talk to larry
Pray to larry really
for his forgiveness

My jimmy cricket is bummed out
but I will sleep tonight
maybe dream of larry

South maryland
such a strange state
eight miles wide at hagerstown
bu that is a long haul down to the tunnel/bridge.

I used to love that thrity mile ride across and under the mouth of the Potomac

the closest thing I have had to being on the ocean since I worked on that trawler.

I been thinking
Imagining
a still pond
it is very quiet
there is no wind

another train
just snuck up on me
nice horn good rumble

good night mountain man

so glad you followed your heart
visited Carl
gave him your wired love

he knew what was coming
he knew who was coming
you felt that he knew, that he knew

rest in peace, dear Carl
appreciate this act of timing, wireman

its not gone its just.....
a place you want to go
but dont have the funds for,
something known and respected,
something you think about,
a man a place a something you shall
always keep alive,
something never lost,
just something not at hand

step by step
your friend journeyed.
and you walked with him,
and talked with him,
and when it was most important
you were just there with him
and he with you.
how blessed he is
to continue beyond death
in your heart,
and how blessed you are
to have him to carry.
peace wireman,
wb

thanks judih....whitebird and sonofthesun

'There's a big bad rodbuster
here to visit me." Carl said
to his 2 sisters back on march 2nd.

All that was recognizable of the man
i knew in that coffin were his big hands.
He's at peace on the other side as i always
call it....the mysterioso that we will all
come to know someday.....

hmmmmmmmm...

"All that was recognizable of the man
i knew in that coffin were his big hands."
it was the same with my father.
cancer robbed him of alot,
but not the beauty of his hands.
i remember his hands even now,
more than three years since he passed over...
i remember laying my hand on his hands
as he lay there,
and the comfort it gave me.
there's something about the hands,
something uniquely beautiful...
and look at the banner,
how amazing is that!

they will know us by our hands.

thank YOU dear one for sharing your friend with us.
thank YOU for YOUR hands and what they create.

peace.

Hands
LOVE
lasting words
using them
hands
tapping out
poetry
drummin'
love that BEAT
caressin the blues
within a harmonica
six fingers...six holes on
a whistle flute
and wiring it up
puttin life into the
line till it jumps
off the wall
howling into infinity
peace whitebird