Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

steve's high notes
a blast of trumpet flare
reasons to smile

john prine died last night
my first instinct was to toast his passing
with a few sweet words and a shot of jack daniels
but it's 9am
oh what the hell

Sacred to the memory of John Prine, Joe Diffie, & Bill Withers. All will be missed for their songs and personalities.
Joe Diffie apparently died from Covid-19.He wrote and performed "Third Rock from the Sun". John Prine, as you know,
wrote "Hello in There", et al. Bill Withers wrote "Lean on Me", and others. It hurts that these folks are no longer with us.
Apparently, John Prine also died from complications from Covid-19.

To which I will add Ellis Marsalis (piano), Wallace Roney (trumpet), & Bucky Pizzarelli (guitar) - one jazz giant, two stalwarts

shalom to those who painted our reality in sound
a moment of silence

shalom y'all
never knew I was a southerner
till I walked the streets of NYC


Liza Jane, I got a house in Baltimore
Leo Frank got nothing on me
I've been to Georgia on a fast train

a sacred core still burns in me
a remnant from when I asked the
Mah Nishtanah

I wish you all safe
holidays

Sing my song for the people I meet
And get along with it all
Where the people say "y'all"
Sing a song with a friend
Change the shape that I'm in
And start playin' again
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3zNl6NsOyY

holidays gone digital
personal space gone visual
dreams take over mind

one tiny insect
discovery of a light
current obsession

easter among the trees
I hugged one
the spirit of mother earth

virtual tree hug
bees claim first rights
mother earth applauds

tasteful garden
grows lovely hope
bountiful basket bursts

no routine funk
no adjustment for disruption
got to get back to the garden
or one fast move and I am gone
no fever but cabin fever
gotdamit open the fucking door stick your head out a window...
sweethome road, sunshine, me and my bike, that's what I need please mr tambourine man

upcoming bike ride
meeting in an office
as if it's normal

doors open
doors close
playing with numbers

my safety
your safety
masked dog-walkers

more bullshit
his falsehoods
escape into self

I still walk and jog.
Tour the neighborhood.
Marvel at it, as a child.
I still dig music, mix tapes,
yes tapes! watch them turn,
the look of it, sound of it, the
analog golden era before the
digital tide swallowed us up...