Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

chop-chop
no sound today
hotel california
on the sounds here
lebowski hated 'em
the eagles that is
saw joe walsh with
stephen stills in
early '70's, he was
awesome
years flying
time mas rapido
nothing to do but
immerse
yeah fuck the work/job
we humans should be
free, o say can't they see?
jammin
bam-a-lammin
whammin
fuck the slammin
we are children of the future
yes indeed
jam on me!

love hate
hate to go to work
love the bike ride there

hate to teach the kids
love to teach each kid

hate to leave my studies
love to see the world

hate the timeclock
love the swarm of impressions

hate love

yin and yang
black and white
to and fro we go
caught in the middle
like a girl jumping rope
keep up your rhythm
or you will trip and fall
as your friends twirl
the line faster and faster
and you've gotta love
the accompanying songs
passed down through the ages
from woman to girl, and boys
never much got into it
here in my town, it was reserved
for females and... man
were they good
I could watch them all day long
singing and jumping, laughing
there was real skill in the play

For some reason, I thought spring
would be accompanied
by an intelligence quotient
equaling the average prediction of weather.
But I was wrong.

Just as we can't guarantee that
spring will ever last,
I'd place bets on the fact that
neither will someone's skills to reason.

Spring is only a season.
It comes then goes in a blink
of an eye. The same as a person's
ability to think logically ... (or try).

the smartest person
goes blank sometimes
reason or clarity gone, gone

fan blowing away
just finished "Fug You"
by Ed Sanders
found it excellent
approaching midnight
half a cleaned studio
makes me wanna
go for it
nothing to do
but create

toss away
scraps of fabric, waistbands
old potential puppet stuff

sweep out corners
goodbye hornet's nest
out you go gecko

fresh foam rubber
pink and yellow gouache
clean tabletop

gouache me a painting
draw me a toon
open up all the windows
let the sunshine
deliver the coffee
kick the can
play me a symphony
throw me some jam
pour that ginger ale
any old time
run the voodoo down
slide on the slime

'O' - give me an 'o'
what? give me a what
'the' - what the f*ck?

(a short commentary on the morning news - run by the censor)

Gimme a J (J!)
Gimme an O (O!)
Gimme a B (B!)
What's that spell?
JOB!

I think she's got it!
I think she's got it!

Gimme a Y (Y!)
Gimme an A (A!)
Gimme a Y (Y!)
What's that spell?
YAY!

A SPRING in my step
may be coming my way!

....

(Whew! Keep yer fingers crossed
while I plant my garden.
Everything's coming up roses!)

kinda perfect day
cuppa joe
head for the streets
clapping hands
Mongolian thoughts
Jammin illusions
repository of spontaneity
the place to lay it down
it's ours
it's theirs
it's inbetween
even outside
hip or norm
beat or square
going and returning
we stick by you oh great jam
coming back religiously
like a radio turn on
blessed be the jam

Drop a quarter in the collection plate,
don't wait! The Great Jam is a God!
It'll cure you of all your ills!
It fills your soul with glee!
It sets you free, maximizes your maxes
plus you can write it off on your taxes!

i declare 500 poems this year
not too taxing
but still no discernible profit

comin' down the hill
narrow bridge ahead
checking for oncoming traffic
i take the lane
spokes of my wheels
whirring like turbines
round
and round
and round again
little book full of haiku
safe in my front pocket