Stir (like) Crazy/Stick in the Mud

mind alive with language,
myriad fumbling tongues
slavering, sloshing, frothing out
thoughts
slipping on word formation of
electromagnetic impulse,
dense clouds gather fast
try to scream lightning and leap
before it catches the tree,
we must seem to all-seeing eyes
immobile of mouth and foot
unable to get away
with what we want to get across
mind
like time
flies

summer watermelon mississippi joy

a very talented New Orleans friend named Hayley painted this classic image of my friends Helmer, Johnny, Laurence, and me kicking it in Clear Springs, Mississippi.

River trails

Louisiana green tunnels are like giant lungs. It’s an ebb and a flow that I simply have to let carry me swiftly in bursts of joy-filled fear along the Comite River until I am coughed out onto a white sand river bend beach where I search slowly and peacefully for the Huckleberry Finn within. So much birdsong. There! A giant snapping turtle. And then a pair of alligator gar swimming beneath the sun-reflecting surface and I stop at once. Look around, listen closely. Beginning to know each little sound. The quick burst of the rabbit. The gentle, short slither of the lizards tail. The hop-skip of the birds in the brush. The long, ominous slither of the snake that is almost always a tree root. And goddamn, that armidillo just doesn’t give a shit. He keeps up his relentless search for grubs regardless of any curious blonde apes that come his way.

proverbial dessert

in this
the time of sinking ships
we still want to have
our damn cake!
and eat it/smash it
into our faces/the
faces of loved ones/
parade in it/
parade on it/
take it to bed/
sneak it into the movies/
lick the frosting off of it/
or fingers/
slowly or hurriedly
too!

nevermind that.
what we WANT
is to have the damn cake!
and continue to do whatever we want!

ode to Teddy's Juke Joint

E-LEC-tricity
is a rumbling Wipe Out
jumpin’ on that wooden
-- DaNcE floor --
of Teddy’s Juke Joint.

Passion
is Selwyn Cooper
& da Share Croppers
SWEAT caked
audience of 10 (screamin').

Mother of Soul Monsoons
is that Guitar Scream
that Mem Shannon
is sure as hell gonna bring
on a Sunday eve.

Don't Let Me Fade Away

Into eternal Bliss

We/Create (a week, get it?) 2010/11

To people on and enjoying this blog/Hawai'i dreamers and East/Sur-coasters alike...

Can we have a physical meeting of the minds for a week of unbridled creativity? mm-mm and OOO la la...a delicious festival of collaborations that you could never come up with on your lonesome, and that's the point--the spearhead straight to the heartline every time...what's a salad smoothie without the kale AND ginger?

Come ye Come ye to the fantastical We/Create 2010(or 11) time and location and posters TBD...I can put in 2 votes for Hawai'i or here, or EVEN the fantasyland of Gesundheit! WVA (SUMMER ONLY).

what'ya think? an excuse to fling work out the window and hitch it to Hawai'i?? Dare I say F YEA???

with love,
c