Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

guitars cadilacs and hill billy music
the only things that keep me keeping on

Lew Welch a man of constant sorrow
blue moon of kentucky keep on shinning

the aroma of coffee the only thing to get the stench putrid chicken blood out of my nose
a chicken haulin chicken choking old fucking fool
someone always trying to tell them something they all ready know
I just want to rock and roll all night long
to the sound of Mohammed's radio

first thoughts
incised, chiseled in stone
no going back in jam

raid kills bugs dead

"if you ain't a trucker, you ain't shit" doctor dooms truck stop

sometimes you just got to hammer hammer on it
let roar
pour it on
living can be such a hard way to go
I don't want to own anything
except for a few childhood souvenirs

I hear a truck start a big old cat engine
and that metalalic throb's like a gong or bell
it cuts right through to that sacred core
that vibrates to a Tibetan chant


Lew was depressed cause he got a sandwhich consisting of two slices of bread with a leaf a lettuce stuck in between.
he wrote a poem about it which got dam me I did not make a note to reference it here

but anyway I wanted to say, "Have a cookie Lew" Cheer up it's still something to eat, maybe put a little mayo on it.
I only hope he was not driven to it by any concern about money.

He might have been to Kentucky I don't know
Sometimes a person is too beautiful for this world I suppose
Vincent too I suppose

I just want to jam with the big dogs

Edie Parker got tired of eating those mayonnaise sandwhich's
Yet they jammed
Sticky like glue
The kind that glides
Takes a long time to bond
You'd need a magic wand
To make it stick
Jack was like Lickiddy split
Out the door
Wonder did he ever go to Baltimore?
In the bios I find no mention of a visit
Back to open door JAM!
It's goin on now
This imochine wound tight
Mary Jane on iTunes
Thinking back
Bout Becky Jane
Bout Lucy B
Bout carole jean
And I don't work for nobody but u....Baby!

I don't know
but I hope he did
make it to baltimore
his kind of town I think
I could see him walking into the old seafarer's hall
in fells point

pictures of a gone world now
jack made music with his words
got dam me I am tune deaf
I struggle to keep up with u and mingo
but I try cause:
"What we can't reach flying[running], we must reach limping. The book says, there is no sin in limping."

j

first thought best thought
yeah right
no matter what ya do
somebody's got a damn rule
for how to proceed
jam up that shit
send it out of town
flush it down
and if it don't stay down
flush it again
moonlit pines
seen in darkness
seem all in a line
and walking the line
so Johnny Cash is somewhere
out there in the dark trees
jam up jam out jam down
jam it all round
say Johnny ya ol' dark cat
can ya hear us?

'Modest ST jam
Layin wheels on the road
On the land
Out there in the night
Gene Tracy on the tape
I wonder if u had an 8 track?
Me
Full of the word
Three months of em stored up
Poetry night coming
Got writers and musicians, poets and fols from
the lunatic fringe
ST U B solid jammin man
There when nobody was
Mingo like a brother
We be keeping the spirit alive
1st thought...best thought
Jam on me
Jam the night!!!

we pick it up
off of the ground
we make it straight
we make it round
we make it short
we make it wide
we make it long
we make it strong
we send it up
we send it down
we lay it out smokin' all around
we find it where we find ourselves
let me tell ya doll we everywhere
damn yeah! damn yeah!
we got the dead in our past
but we're walkin' pretty & fine at last
damn yeah! damn yeah!
damn yeah! damn yeah!

make it what I will
or none will
the will to power
power to will

up and down and all around
like a wheel rolling free out of it's own center

never too late to learn to dance
today is shot but
I still got tomorrow
keeping the faith

jamming my troubles away

between the key strokes
a momentary satori
life is a sticky jam



http://studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=454

Night in Hollins Market, Baltimore
Live with the bohemian queen
Way past John Waters
Hangin with Sue Lowe
She was the party
Back when way back when
I was still drinking Bacardi
Washed up on the rocks
Land of nevermore

poetry coming up out of the ground
poetry coming down from the sky
poetry in the sea
poetry with eyes ears nose touch tongue
in fingers
in feet
in the air
in the graves
in our lungs
poetry the root
gives birth to us
takes us back when
we are done
when the last word is
gone from our tongues

Been having a Jack attack lately
Not just his books
The poetry
The bios
Kindle did it
I read once more
The lights always right
Poetry night at cafe Nola
Last night
After 3 months off
Better night of words
3 or 4 times a year will suffice
Sunday night much easier for me
What else?
Oh yeah, how bout jam........

I can't actually touch u jam
Mind meld jam
I know your out there jam
Thank the heavens for ST and mingo
That's a whole lotsa jam
Road jam
City jam
Suburban jam
Jammin on my mind
How's about u?

my tongue stuck to
the roof of my mouth
but the words still comin'
coming from distance
going to distance
and taking me along
jam gets me to babbling
when I can't string a sentence
and I'm listening to things
that I can not see
passing close to me
in the night
can't always count on the power
but can always count on the jam

Looseness
Slippery word jam
Yet sticky
Sticks to the ribs
Nurtures the jibes
Jive jam
High five jam
Death defying jam
Jam goes on and on and on.....