Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

gray day
moving thru its moments
a word here
a dance there
breathing & meals
thoughts of days past
thoughts of days to come
creedence clearwater song
going round & round my head
let the dog out
let the dog in
collaborations & solitary acts
all woven together
seamless the whole shebang
bring up wordpad
and click on the symbol
for a new blank textbox
a smaller window opens immediately & says
"Rich Text Document"
the name of the thing
just blows me away

having a flyingdog
JoJo's bar calm
nola too packed
raining
led zep on sounds
yankees vs white sox
on tube
world in a tangle
avoiding news
uncontrollables
time to get lost in
the wire
nd jam

just back from a ride
twilight when i made road
deep dark on the return
sometimes i stop
by the rail crossing
set the bike against the telephone pole
get the coffee out from it's carrier
look up & down the tracks
listen to the sounds of the night settling in
i'm not waiting for anything
just standing there at the crossing
drinking coffee & listening
hear the roar of traffic in passage
out on the nearby super two
and in between the vehicles rush
i hear crickets
the rustle in the bush of some other night hunter
looking to make his feed
thought tonight of kerouac as i stood there
out there somewhere in his camp
his can of beans steaming hot
from the fire
using his rucksack for a pillow
in his strong days before all the alcohol
he really wasn't a writer
but a geographer
following his own plot
across the landscape of the heart
after awhile i put the coffee back in it's carrier
mount up
onward or homeward bound i don't know which
or at this point if it makes any difference
whitman to kerouac
the way has already been trod
and now i'm making my own run

it was Henry Miller
wrote a book my bike
and other friends
read it back in 70's
time to read again

oh Jack
waiting for a ride in the rain
in on the road, he headed
out of new york the wrong way
or when he was hitchin & he
cooked a couple a steaks for
him and a trucker over an
open wood fire...so tasty

he shoulda stayed buddha/catholic
but he gave up, when he experienced
the horrors within success
shoulda stayed on the slow ride
its a long haul
u have to walk the straight line
sometimes
the way of escape thru drink n drugs
is just that, an elusive escape
for which your body will pay

but this is jam
and Jack is the patron saint of jam
we are its only followers
as of now
others have left
or just taken some time off
me, ive always been in it
for the long haul
after 40 years of making sculpture
and writing i know its the only way
to find original creation
in writing its double hard
there are so many writers, 4 years
in visual art i always aspired
to it after reading paul gauguins
statement that he painted from
inside his mind, those amazing tahitian visions
and it took years to get to the
point i could finally do it with
wire, lucky that it is my trade
being a rodbuster and all
i have a firm grounding in form because of this
as for writing i was blessed to b turned on to
jack and the beats when i was 20
in palo alto california by reading
the dharma bums, i continue on that
path and will till my dying day.
jam on me mingo...it takes 2 and we r it right Now!

Miller wrote a book about his bike?
man i had to check that shit out
found a pic him and his ride
definitely a single speed he had
might even of been a fixie
i didn't know nothing about this
all this time walkin' around on this planet
and still finding shit to know
talkin' 'bout people fallin' away
i've been trading haiku's with judih
regular until recently
but not lately - just can't do it
at the moment - i mean i try but
even if one makes it to a textbox
i look at it and go naw -
delete button time and poof! gone
sometimes i just can't write
or express -
ain't painted anything in months -
and i like to paint
i just go with the flow
nothin' more anyone can do most times
Miller and his bike -
thought never entered my head

been up since dawn
now i'm thinkin' 'bout
ancestors -
pic came to me this morning
from my sister
of relatives in the blood line
people & their lives gone so long
that the people who once knew them
are all long dead too
if my sister don't get off this genealogy kick soon ...
driving me nuts with it
i try to get out
but she keeps surrounding me with the dead
& the ancestors keep dragging me back in -
so here i am
trapped in goddamnitsville
what the actual fuck?

my sister too
wha da fuck
i really could care
less, cept that story
bout great grand dad
and how the train
took his leg off
more uncontrollables
wish i had the time
but i dont
wanna a bike
got enuff friends

morning coffee ...
tickles me no end that
miller rode a bike -
just makes me smile ya know
it's like finding an unexploded nuclear warhead
in your yard -
no plot - just ride
sometimes this first thought thing
is like opening your front door to a flood
without checking with the Weather Channel first
put the peckerheads on hold, grandma
cause we need a good boat
i miss the weather girls
once upon a time every TV station had 'em
all tight-skirted
a little cleavage
and some motion for the camera -
where have all the flowers gone?
where have i gone?
gladiators of the gone gone gone!
if i had had a choice 'tween Rome
& riding with the Khan
you would have found me on my pony
and smellin' of horseshit
Miller rode a bike in his old age
well - i'll - be - damned

he was a racer in his youth
writes about setting the pace
for the great riders in the old daze
in brooklyn, racing to coney island
theres a part in henry and june
movie that deals with his bike riding
when he was in his 40's in paris

ya know every bike i ever had
was stolen
sad state
left em all unlocked
but hidden
at least i thought they were
last time it was on a construction site in DC
back in the 80's
was parking the truck for free
down by the potomac and riding up town
was getting pretty good too
uphill is a challenge sometimes
the more u ride
the better ur endurance
hell who am i talkin to
love your talks bout riding
and the train crossing mingo
my mind sees it clearly
been riding the train home
through potomac woods and pastures
amazing feeling
love to watch the train approaching the station
total power and grace

he raced too?
damn -
none of my bikes have
been lifted yet
mostly because i'm always on the thing
or with it
got a lock and chain for it
but the fear is always there -
you're right 'bout endurance
the bike will build it in you
ya just got to ride regular
i don't have a prob with that
because i like to ride
even for just shits & giggles
i hear ya about the trains
i like to watch them suckers go by
stand there in their thunder

so different
morning train
evening train
quiet car
or party coach
all about the
shape im in
sometimes
the xpress newspaper
other times snooze
love the train horn
echoing cross town

that' how i track the location
of the train that comes by here
it sounds the horn at every crossing
coming from the south
i hear it
& know where it is
sometimes use the sound of its warning horn
to race it to the crossing nearest here
on the bike
see it in your head -
i'm sitting here jamming i hear the horn - guess it's four crossings down
jump up out to the dining room throw the bike to my shoulder grab my hat the same time - thru the door
cross the porch
bike to the ground me to the saddle out the driveway
hang a right at the road down the rise - i use physics & gravity & the landscape
to get my speed -
flesh & blood & bone
to get my stride
to hit my cadence -
to reach my jam -
and once there i ride it - not pushing for the speed - but in the groove
reach the Kingdom - Dutch Ridge crossroads -
90 degree right turn Clyde! - woman lives on the corner there has seven or eight dogs
penned up in the backyard - man they go nuts with me passing by - whining snarling yapping bark bark bark BARKBARKBARKBARK!!!! - HELL BREAKIN' LOOSE ! - me/the bike lean lean LEANING into that right coming outta it down a slight grade up a gentle rise then a slope into the first ridge - short but straight up to top it - the first bitch - the back side is a two step drop - first drop then a level flat - then the second drop to the flats that cross with onion fields to either side - ice age bogs is what they once were - hundreds of acres of them - the soil dark as night - now i'm at the foot of the second ridge - road curves almost 90 degrees to ascend the front - she's a real bitch of a climb - i curse it every time - straight up & no mercy - but after the drop on the other side i'm almost to the rail crossing - & this ridge doesn't cheat you with no two-step drop either - it's a straight down drop unbroken - at the top the bike begins to pick up velocity immediately - it's a rollercoaster drop - you come off of it with the spokes of your wheels singing with the spin - have to use the brakes rolling up to the crossing - look down the tracks you can see the headlight of the engine workin it's way to you - it's a mile & some to the crossing
but if everything's right i arrive to be part of it/in time to see it all go down
bells
flashing red warning lights
gates dropping
the vibration of the approaching train
comes up from the ground
into the soles of your feet
passing up into your legs
up into your gut
up into your heart
the cars passing thru
no romantic passenger cars here
it's the heavy freight run -

coal cars hauling it
all away
sometimes you wait
15 minutes for that
long line to
ride by at point of rocks, md.
laid back in the seat
take a snooze

the ungraspable
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
form
formless
sky blue
cloudless
ocean calm
stillness
wind wanders
waves develop
expire
Alan Watts
Han Shan
Jack Kerouac
listening
learning
sinking in?
takes time
awakening
comes
and goes
phases of moon
same stars on
horizon
thursday
friday
monday perhaps cloudy
tuesday rain
wednesday who knows
it will be
razors edge
kung fu priest
in movement
i thrive
my wonder knows
no bounds
disappointment
i know
expectations
why expect
ideas
thrown upon
fires
embers smoke
next morning
feelings uncontrollable
home
yes home within
18 years
on the run
performing words
to connect
a bottom line
to be
there is no other
way
awakened
no choice
alive, alive, ohhhhhh

saw a raven on the hillside today
as i rode the slopes
he looked at me as if to say
we were both within
live on
breathe on
move on
the buffalo head nickel
i found today was made
the year before
the first world war
live on
breathe on
move on
fucked if we do
fucked if we don't
each person
the seat
of the universe
live on
breathe on
move on
witness
witness
witness
listen it's the
night wind