perpetual jam!!!!!!!!!

[jimboloco]

zen beast stalking the priest
over the edge into the abyss
oh stray dawg can you see me?
he mutters as he tramps urban desolation huez
while the road beckons only he'll take the back roads this time
what i would do

[stilltrucking]

silent voices
inspired by a lenny zee story on litkicks

"At one point he almost thought he heard an actual voice repeating the same phrase, ‘go east”."

http://www.litkicks.com/BeatPages/msgAr ... &parent=-1

quoting myself
by tinker jack on May 06, 2004 19:50:00

"Experiences bobbing back to the surface of consciousness, thirty years ago laying on a mattress staring at a sixty watt bulb, (it might have been Easter too) a voice with a Yiddish accent, maybe it is was Austrian, speaking to me in silent words that were not vibrating my ear drums, but running round in my brain, I had a lot of heroes back then Freud, Einstein, my uncle Phil from Philadelphia, not sure who it was, it said my name in Yiddish which I can't spell, asked me what I wanted to know, and told me that they did not know either. A raving neurotic at the time I had to take a long twisted road to get over it so I could read your story tonight.I like it a lot, look forwarding to reading the rest.The silent voices eventual drove me east to England and George Fox and Margaret Fell.Sorry for the ramble, just enjoyed your story, it could be as simple as we are here to shine for each other."


Thinking about Night Mares. I used to trip by myself a lot. One night a 60 watt light bulb started talking inside my head. I want to know it all, I wanted to understand everything, I wanted the answer to the question of 'Life The Universe and Everything'

zen beast stalking the priest
over the edge into the abyss
oh stray dawg can you see me?
he mutters as he tramps urban desolation huez
while the road beckons only he'll take the back roads this time
what i would do

I would sit under a life oak tree
and practice conscious breathing
and let the
Zen beast stalk this priest
To the edge of consciousness
where words lhave no meaning
and fall silently into the abyss

oh stray dawg can you see me?

straydog was one my deleted user names on litkicks, also tinkerjack, zero hero, homeboy, jitterbug, and a bout ten more I can't remember. For some reason I have a rare ability to make women hate me on sight. I suppose they see me all too well.

[WIREMAN]

2:04am
me & the zorba dog
down in the lockup
listening to the
puter hum
checkin out the
cyber words
then headin back
to dreams..................

[stilltrucking]

I would rather be live dog than a dead lion.

Pack hunters
Reminds me about a news story of a band of stray dogs in Mexico City
Led by the most ferocious dog there is pound for pound







http://www.meetgypsy.com/about_gypsy.html


Zorba dreams too

If only we were half the man
Our dog thinks we are
A dog

A Man and His Dog
T. Mann
Noble beast
Smeller of shaggy butts
Licker of balls
scratchier of fur
Farter of heinous farts





I have not had a dog in years
But I got a cactus plant and a few spiders running around.

[WIREMAN]

I been dogless
and catless and
a lot less than
what was thought
of o say can't ya see................

[stilltrucking]

my sleeping arrangements suit me well
Solitary sleeper for over a quater century
Sometimes a mysterious woman enters my naked dreams
A demon lover that embraces me

Last night as I closed my eyes
There was a brilliant flash
a loud bang
and a ball of electric blue light
My first thought was epiphany,
Then I thought my brain exploded.
It must be what a stroke is like
This morning I stagger around

I am happy for my married friends
I am the eternal maiden old uncle
I know that
I just get a littly irritable
For those that sleep sweet dreams
beside their soul mates
but think that
that life
is for everyone.


I am free
Free
I am who I am
What will be will be
Whores are just not my thing
I am Not that biblical




"I used to sleep at the foot of old grory
But I awoke in the dawns early rise
and much to my suprise
I was the victim of the great compromise"
quoted from memory

[WIREMAN]

I see a sea &
a red sun so bright
in the morn that
ya can't drive down
Lombard St.,

I see a price that
has to be paid
with sweat &
the it never eases,

I see an end that
will never be cause
we'll never know..................it...........

[stilltrucking]

we got to shine on one another

I see it too

Cobblestones and railroad tracks

I can't go home again but you make me homesick


A morning sun

A price to be paid in sweat

I could never adjust to air conditioned indoors

Always looking outside

Window watcher
Clock watcher

By the sweat of our brows we are cursed to earn our daily bread and women to bear children. I wonder who got the worse deal

My mama told me
if you can make a living
doing something you enjoy
dat is a blessing

I got my sales job and I got this GO

I got Music on the rodcast

[WIREMAN]

login
submit
sub-dude
substantial
sticky jam
yeah real sticky
chimes chiming
me stop on a dime-ing
rhyming
sometimes
most time
yeah most times
flowin
on the ~GO!........ing.................

[stilltrucking]

zen beast stalking the priest
over the edge into the abyss

I can run but not hide
stopped on dime
never rhyming
climbing
one word
one line
one jam
at a time
flowing
following the
stream of a sticky melody
We’re flowing
By god!
Like musical chairs
with words

Going nowhere fast

[WIREMAN]

i found lrod 2night
the wired one i did
2 years ago & finished
a big rasta one with an
earring and a cj glass bead,

lrods a dryin and
resplendent in a shiny
black gamblers hat...............

[stilltrucking]

I been thinking about calling Homeboy
Just a minor stroke
His vision coming back
But I wonder about my sense a humor

Yeah and we getting old as a family
One Child born this year to carry on
Grief and mourning such a natural way

But I could not mourn for crazy mike
He was no Jack Coburn
But he did the best he could

Uncompleted mourning
It only coust be forty four years of my life
From thant April day my heart froze solid
I suppose you could it a delayed case of PTSD

Alamo Rose Shrieking and screaming
Throwing herself on his coffin
And I was one and twenty
and already dead.

Oh yeah
the circle will be unbroken

[stilltrucking]

LR a gambling kind of man
He shoots them words and notes
And never craps out.

Just don't stand near him
When the sky turns black and lightning cracks
and thunder crashes
unless you got a ground strap on your Jockey shorts
He draws it to him


Booming kind of day
My temples throbing to
Bongo bongo
Beating
bongo beat



Hospital visits
I wish I was drunk
Homeboy so up beat positive
He shakes his head in disbelief
at our Fearless leader's cirmes but he keeps
his faith that somehow things will work out right

[stilltrucking]

The Phenomenology of Zen
When you get the adrenalin rush of an open text box on studio eight,
When hands are shaking so much it is hard to hit the keys

{And I imagine the windshield of a truck
<jimboloco>

He is on the ninth floor at Methodist.

And that windshield of that truck, the two fold continuous multiplicity of the GOing world, that metaphor for my field of visual sensation. That state of non-objectification of sensory data. Like looking into an old old old mirror where the silvering on the back has rubbed off in spots.

But there is so much redundancy in the meat machine we call the brain. They say it could patch itself and vision could restore. Mean while I suppose he will learn to compensate.}



Oh man what a day, I don't know if you ever read/see the comic strip Mutts. <sour puss.> 4/09/06 just beautiful and some where five babies died while I read this ad two hundred and twenty people became refugees and this day is so perfect that I must take a walk and think of a direction, look for some arrows of direction, I must find some purpose cause my heart keeps on beating, and the air smells so sweet, still.





the journal of the mundane, interesting site

did I make myself clear?

Such over an over abundance of clarity these days.

I think I will listen to Jerry and the boys on Old And In The Way,

if you are ever down in san antone call me on the phone and i will meet you at Alamo Mission, and we will neel there and pray, to the..
sit out on the porch and listen.

go going gone
just a travelling song

[WIREMAN]

just walkin & thinkin
& thinkin & walkin
of course talkin & writin
& jammin...yet not slammin
cool blue day
tomorrow the latinos reign...............