Volunteers of ~GO!

[WIREMAN]

come to the land where the j lady rules and the ST jests giving it his what's that smell like fish-o-baby best.....Mousey1 & K&D keeping the spontaneous spirit alive....come my pretty ones to the land where words run free.......no editing jus let it be.....~GO!

[stilltrucking]

got to hear some saxophone quick
stop right here....

first track
Giant Steps

blast blow stepping out
fifty feet with ever stride
so now i can hear it when i don try, sax drums trying to find the base

ok walking talking jazz

come to the land where the philosphers are clowns and the poets are kings

something fish smells

ocean breezes

from a dark sea with in us

baby can't you see

this is me

[mnaz]

Action! Action!, We want Action!

A-C-T!--- I-O-N!

- - - - - - - - - - - --


I read Joseph Campbell
to reassure myself
that I am a match for life,
and I should not be afraid
of my shadow..

I turn to a random page..

"The inhabitant, or soul of the universe,
is never seen; its voice alone is heard.
All we know is that it has a gentle voice,
like a woman, a voice so fine and gentle,
that even children cannot become afraid"...

page 206, 'Myths to Live By'

So who's afraid of the universe, now?

[mnaz]

And what that had to do with anything else above,

well, I'm not certain...


Just a random moment of quiet incongruity,
drafting off the scholar..

[K&D]

my roomate watches t.v.
i have the nerve to ask about plasma,
plasma for her and plasma for me.
i can hear truckins beat better,
better then any of all the hollow words
that come from my two deminsional
realler then reall
sad excuse for a human being
roomate.

[stilltrucking]

And what that had to do with anything else above,

how can we tell what relates to what, patterns emerge, jigsaw puzzle of words snap into place.
it worked for me

joe campbell the power of myth

love and the goddess

true love is perfect kindness

Plasma

Gives me the squirms to even think about having a room mate,

no matter how many dimensions she had

I need my privacy

i mean my solitude



"The last time I saw Elvis
He was shooting at a colour TV"

http://www.freedomtoexhale.com/pwlyrics.htm

cheating with one edit sparky

I heard him on NPR yesterday

sounds good to me lots of visuals

THE PAINTER



The painter stood before her work
She looked around everywhere
She saw the pictures and she painted them
She picked the colours from the air

Green to green, red to red
Yellow to yellow in the light
Black to black when the evening comes
Blue to blue in the night

[K&D]

as a kid i knew i had to find the one
"you are like a hurricain
there's calm in you eyes"
recklessness, madness
one word
thymos.

[mousey1]

I love it the best

I love it the most

Those random moments

When we quietly post

Incongruities

And discover

They fit

Like

OJ's

Glove

tis Muuuuurrrrrrdddddeeeerrrrrrr

Muuuuurrrrrrdddddeeeerrrrrrr




Now that's incongruous

Congo anyone?

Cha Cha maybe?

[stilltrucking]

To live like a flower.
To live the message itself,
not a living thing at all,
the full inexplicable power
of the largest ocean of all,
the one inside us

http://www.thymos.com/#thymos

Muuuuurrrrrrdddddeeeerrrrrrr

Just be sure you eat enough twinkies to make a good defense

[mousey1]

Twinkies

No shortage of twinkies

Here

Twinkie twinkie little star.....

[WIREMAN]

hittin the streets
short ride to the WAY!

[stilltrucking]

like a woman, a voice so fine and gentle,
that even children cannot become afraid"...

on my way to a dark incongruent space

where a woman screams

Muuuuurrrrrrdddddeeeerrrrrrr

all day images of that white bitch laying there with her throat slit
and black college students cheering an innocent verdict

that horroible woman with her skinny ass in a mini skirt
smug expressions and enjoying her job
thought she was going to manipulate the black women on the jury

i wonder if OJ has sold the rights to the movie
I can hardly wait to see it.

on my way somewhere mark

[mnaz]

O for a wide, empty stage...
no movement or sound, only wind,
where sparse lands beyond scale,
fold into my dimension of wonder,
a mythology as sun-struck poetry,
the elements in view, no clutter,
on a playa, white polished marble,
cleansed doors of perception....



(thanks again to Joe Campbell... "The
first thing that any mythology must fulfill
if it is to render life to modern lives is
that of cleansing the doors of perception
to the wonder, at once terrible & fascinating,
of ourselves and of the universe of which
we are the ears and eyes and the mind"....
p. 257, 'Myths to live by'...).

I wonder if he came up with
"doors of perception"...


(Sorry.... was just in the mood...)

[Doreen Peri]

Make no mythtake about it.
I am a Jotheph Campbell fan.
I doubt if I could live without it.
Man, I love that man.

I was thinking of thtarting a religion.
I'd call it Campbellianithm.
A mythtic religion, with vision,
no cult, no oppothing thchithms.

I've experienthed mythery, my friendth,
and when I worship him, I feel better!
I'm going to pray to him! Amen!
Or write him a perthonal letter!

No wait! He'th not around any more.
But I thwear he wath no myth.
He never waht rethurrected, I'm sure,
but if he were, I'd give him a kith on the lipth.

He'th gone. I sure do myth him.
I'd very much like to kith him.

[WIREMAN]

if the doors of perception
were cleansed
everything would appear
as it is........infinite.....william blake

my "walk along a wall" performance piece
always included this wonderful piece of writing
right smack dab in the middle....