This is the next Reimagining of the .spinthedrum/stonerjazz collaborations by Wilfried Hanrath of W:I:Lo' the wisp. Once again, Wilfried's wonderful and skilled vision has both surprized and thrilled. Thank you Wilfried..

Wilfried Hanrath - Cool Abberation (STONERJAZZ & AVA), Rework

Jo and I teamed up on this tune. To rethink and remake it. Jo felt that this song could be taken as an Allegory for what is happening in the Ukraine and all wars. 
His lovely (Russian) Rav Vast Rhythms are meant as a poignant reminder That "Governments are the war makers."  ALL OF US are trying to survive our governments.

Jo also produced the haunting voicings and  the wonderful   water wind and birds from a natural recording. 
A heartfelt thank you to jo for this. see his other works at "Sonic Structures and Silent Stretchs" Peace.

Strat/mellotron-------jeff gardiner

Hawk Caught a Rabbit: Make Music not War. Featuring Jo Richter

WOW.... What a crew. Stephen aka TexMex Shaman and guitarist and  Producer extraordinaire and responsible for the awesome artwork, Janine Levinson with a voice that melts my heart, Uziel who is so courageous in her exquisite creations, and Jo Richter(Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches) Poet laureate and Sonic Naturalist all teamed up to make this little poem of mine into an Amazing Song. I am sending out big Love and Respect and Thanks to You all, and to EVERYONE else, out there In the Soup.

lyrics
Wretched light so aptly said libra ish in their balanced dread
Wretched light of another day ln the soup out there
the falling down and getting up, it's "Showtime" Fossi said
As he popped amphetamine in the shower scene
Or so it's said by some writer of his dreamy technicolor happenstance
That made the cut.

Could it be scorcery that I see
Through jaded glasses full of gin
Or just a conjury of collected clarities'

So sweet the experiential meat
Dark or light the gods prefer
Is not what we do not do for us
But them.

The guillotine of thoughtless bliss
Takes the Serpent's head
And tiny lights appear around my bed.

Chase the monster south for 14 winters and a night
It grinned across the canyon with a monstrous delight
I thought I saw you yesterday up on the ridge behind my house
It might have been the way you turned your head to speak
But the wind you know it blew your words away
What you said I couldn’t’ say
You know it really doesn’t matter anyway

Know Ware--TexMex Shaman-Janine Levinson-Uziel-Jo Richter

what would you do, what would you do
If the stories they are true?
Where would you go if things got tough.
If the moment's nice, 
Try to keep it for a thrice times two.

Try to keep the power on
It's hard to make a plan about a subject you're unfamiliar with
living in the moment has some urgency
Oh can't you see?

Gambling is a strange addiction with a Roughish Reputation
Rolled hard sixes back to back to back
Got a hundred dollar tip
Made a momentary friend

Relentless Reluctance abounds
Inevitable Finality Surrounds
It's just on the edge a mile south of crazy
Where things get Hazy, and start to bend

I almost have no hope at all
But that's always when you get the call
Have you ever noticed that?

Waterfalls inside a bubble
Floating in a Cauldron in a Cave
Where three witches stir the pot
And cackle at a joke
About a bloke who thought he had the answer 
To a question
He couldn't even fucking formulate.

Hard Six

mahan mahan asked me to add something to this already awesome tune. I have put a couple of vocal tracks on top, and some ebow guitar.😊 I love the guitar work and the wonderful poetry of this song. 
რაჩაი 💀 ღაჩაი - Disenchanted Life (Daylon Cates | Mahan²) @mahan-mahan

Lyrics

The nursery is quiet and the paint has begun to dry
Unlike the tears from our would be mother's eyes.
She's only as strong as the roots that help her stand
And it won't be too hard before she reaches out her hand

For the Men that painted plans
On walls that were corroded
But little did he understand that the soil had eroded

Yeah the solid pieces crumble into microscopic doubt
The roar of faith is a mumble
But the alcohol is stout

The overzealous  sponge neglects the pincushion
Relief will never come.

So they both keep pushing 
For the pain that helps them feel like there's still some reasons left
To numb the other feelings
That distract their life from death.

Dis-Enchanted life(featuring Mahan Mahan and Daylon Cates)

Allen Ginsberg reads Sunflower Sutra: www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVjMKMogTDY
Music: Copyright Stonerjazz, the maestro @user-911083679
Lyrics: copyright jo richter (apart from the short section by A.G. in the beginning, of course)
Note: The poem was written as a tribute to the music that Jeff created first.

This is the e-bow dao
the epitome of transformation
the electro-magnetic, eternal feedback of bliss
powered by a universe condensed in a metal casing
evoking a universe that unfolds neural cavities
to reverb vibrations in all hues and colours
especially those unseen before.

This is the process to end all states
and free the butterfly that is Chuang-Tse
from the shackles of dire duality
and make him join the cyberpunk hobos
riding right through glitchy illusions
flickering inside of doorframe screens.

This is the call to all end-of-time locos
to unpeople the karmic metaverse plains
and behold! that they can‘t help arriving
but can stop making sensations mundane
by comparing, by judging, by interpretation
- a cycle is run when met by the same
and knowledge ends when the river flows on.

This is thew Heraclitus
this is the yarn Penelope knits
Verdandi‘s weird realm of manifestation
the abyss‘ rim of black-hole horizons
where Enkidu talks to wild beasts and trees
where Gallifrey breeds reincarnation
with each fatal shootout of chi-spawned seeds.

This is the e- bow dao
Aphrodite reborn in spring-sponging foam
you‘ll lose your belongings, your security clearing
the servers on this farm are all interlinked
with the waveform dimensions
that keep breeding, breeding
new life out of old
turning lead into gold
vanishing when you try to hold on

E - BOW DAO ( Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches)a poem by Jo Richter

'l swear to tell the whole guitar and nothing but the guitar, so help me Elvis"
"Sounds good when you play lt loud"
Some Guitars having a conversation-----------------A long distance jam, with my good Friend Stephen of TexMex Shaman- and his beautiful custom Telecaster (pictured)-- What a thrill! Thank you, Stephen, and thanks to all Those who Glve this Tune a spin--

Hats off to TMS for his brilliant technical work:)

Infinity+1 with TEXMEX SHAMAN

The second installment of Smoking Trout's EPIC tale of adventure, love, heartache, and a bunch of other stuff, in the travels of the "Hobo Cyberpunks" and the "BUS"

Tea R Sea(Terry) Producer, Synth, percussion, artwork
Uziel - vocals,keyboards(clarinet)
TexMex Shamen (Stephen) guitar
Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches (Jo Richter) percussion, lyrics
StonerJazz(jeff) Lyrics, vocals, percussion

lyrics       

you may have heard the creaking noise and tiny footsteps n the darkened corridors
that stretch to the southern boundaries of the unpolluted parts
where souls are living with total disregard for the nature of the Holy Dumpling
floating on the cosmic stew that simmers horizontally to your soul ln your heart

Traveling with the HOBO CYBERPUNKS, l learned a thing or two from the leader of the band Cosmic Stu who ln a wild tangent and a Rant, described a different spot
a filthy plot, invaded by tribe of bots, who stank of superficiality
an opportunity that he lost

The teachers teach ln empty auditoriums to pupils lost ln 4 inch screens
sequestered ln squalid scenes, that go unnoticed as useless information ls gobbled up and gobbled down ln every home and every town
Put the monster down and walk away He sald,
lron John ls not afraid of the queen
and even though the prince ls doomed
the purpose doesn't change

let me introduce you to some members of the band
there's Sally and Roberta who play the clarinet with beauty and with Grace
who plays the violin and Viola who makes the Djembe
bounce around the brain
with subliminal referrals to her pleasure and her paln
The horns are played by the twins
Maurece and Nostradamus, their trumpeting sublime

the accordlan of course ls played by Johnny who you might remember from the land of Zed, He did eventually get out of bed and sald
This reminds me of a time when things were real, and l could feel the rope of
hope wrapped firmly around and round my throat
before l knew the truth about the Lle
before l knew the meaning of goodbye

Now Stu he claimed to know or knew the whereabouts of the holy condiment that grew only
just outside his windowsill (and was essential to the Dumpling's flavor)
where he lived ln another life with Mary-Ann his ex-wife
who left hm for a guy named Sid who was a maestro on guitar
and had a band that traveled wide and far
including Mary Ann, and Larry too

Looking for that very thing
Hoping for just one bite
of that heavenly delight
before the turning of the light

The Holy  Dumpling "the Smoking Trout" (featuring Tea R Sea, Uziel, TexMex Shaman, Jo Richter)

l am so happy to make Guitar Noises with these Two cool cool Dudes--What a TREAT! please take a listen to the original:):)     Texmex-shaman – Shrooms

Shrooms with TexMex Shaman & One Blind Mouse

Another Adventure of an Acoustic nature---something meditative from TexMex Shaman and Stonerjazz   :) all the beautlful nolse ls made by gultars lncludlng the (TexMex Shaman)wonderful volces================---

The Hummingbird- Jam wlth TEXMEX SHAMAN

"Vinyl Ventriloquist" a poem by written by Jo Richter (Sonic Structures and Silent Stretchs)
.
.
people are busy
completing first lines
"recital by proxy"
confirming stylistic confines
.
resounding diaphragms
refresh prior engrams
raising the doorjambs
to tame toxic bedlam
.
.
everything that has grooves
everyone knows the moves
everything that resonates
precurses, premediates
.
.
syphilitic sibilants
pandemic plops
empowering resonance
as the chrystal pin drops
.
spiral recursion
runs down the track
affirmation, aversion
thwarted, played back
.
.
everything causing friction
sounds a prediction
everything that rotates
crescendoes and fades
.
.
praise luddite iconoclasts
who still dare to jam
creative enthusiasts
 la vie s'écrivant elle même

Vinyl Ventriloquist featuring a poem by Jo Richter (Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches)

Tragic Exuberance

lyrics

Using up as little of the planet as possible seems to be a crooked path
full of obstacles that castigates and relevates non-participation by the individuals who practice such Anomalies.
Crucifiction is the thing that really worries me.

isolation is the circumstance elevated by  
behavior of the perpetrator 
in the matter of the worship of the plastic princess
who dances on the dashboard

Hidden in the middle of the muddled minds of many
dark magicians confidently creating and confusing
scenarios and narratives.

I don't wanna be the one who tells you all about the things you've done
I don't wanna think about it anymore. 
I don't wanna speculate articulate or commiserate
on the nature of the defugalty.

Thankfully your Absence is enough for me.

I can't say I'm sorry that your gone 
but i miss you just the same
my heart's wrung out, l'm done
the sun is behind a cloud
and I'm alone here in my Shroud.

The Nature of the Defugalty

This ls the third installment ln the ongoing "Holy Dumpling" series Where we  find our intrepid Traveling troupe Broke down on the side of the road under a cold winter rain--And Yet there ls hope!!  So much fun with my Cosmic Homies!😊 best played LOUD---

Tea R Sea- Producer-Synth-Artwork
TexMex Shaman- electric guitar
Uziel- Lyrics and Vocals
Stonerjazz- guitar, percussion, lyrics, vocals

the Rain

The rain the rain, lt finally came, not the rain of May, By the way-
Wet and freezing cold and clean and clear, my dear-
Falling down on my head-
The fire and smoke of summer gone
all cleared away ln a single day,
miraculous, some might say-

The bus broke down along a Pastoral stretch
had to hitchhike lnto town
the wood got wet
the stove lt smoked
the band it choked
And yet, a wheel bearing lt was found
ln a dusty corner on a shelf
ln a Rusty little Town of No Renown-

Still time to make the Date At Joe's Garage ln Sante Fe
where some members of the band await,
Anticipating a packed house
who've come to hear the hit song that's Playin on the radio--

Oh, Stu of the blues
Got the band back together again!
Sink or Swim
Around the Mystery Mobile
Made of mushroom patches
Round the back where we grew ourselves
Just to meander the intergalactic block
With our caravan of travailing home
and the wooden smell of campfire coffee

Oh, the rain, the rain it finally came
not the rain of May
By the way...
Finally
Finally

The Rain(Tea R. Sea-Uziel-TexMex Shaman)from "Quest for the Holy Dumpling"#3 by the Smoklng Trout

Djembe--

poem by Jo Richter An excerpt from hls magnflcent  work "Departure"


canto VI
This spire, she continued, is but the lasting remnant
of a cave. The very first one to be adorned with ochre
drawings. The very first one in which olorine bone
was carved to sound a flute. All the surrounding
land has sunken since that golden age – but for this
place. Here, Apollo handed the lyre to Orpheus.
A spire now, it has been maintained by entertaining
visitors ike you and by hosting muses like myself.


Now, she pursed her lips, we live in utter confusion.
The inside protrudes like a lofty spire while
the outside caves in like a poet‘s drawer. It is
the epoch of the common, shared arts withdrawing.
The innards of ideologies chaperoning fervent
industries are digesting all there is, all life, all things. 
Consumption prevails; generation has to retreat
to clandestine niches, obscure, barely beheld.

These are tough times for poets, for artists, for
fragile senses and minds. Still, the spire prevails.
Why, do you think, that is? - He felt his breath soften
as he replied: I do apologize for mistaking you,
the first listener and co-creator of art. You are the one
who heard the song Orpheus sang. It was selfish to
think of you as a muse, relating only to me, my art. 
You have listened to the spire and you did understand.

That is how things used to be, she sighed. The poet served,
as you have learned before, those who live to listen well.
He endured the toil of art, they enjoyed the foils of art.
Then the concept of the muse – all upside-down – was
deviously formed to aid the annihilation of the awkward art.
Now that you are aware of this, you soon will have to
leave, as you well know. You have received the only gifts
that this place has to offer, which are a story and some rest.

Is there a way to stay, he asked? I do not want to
compose mixed-up poems in a jumbled-up world. This is
what you are wont to perform, she insisted. But will
I be able to take to shelter when exhaustion takes
over my senses, he asked? You won‘t, she replied,
this is how you serve and die, as any living poet does.
A matter of trust and choice of environment cannot
be settled by impersuasive evasive manoeuvres

Canto VI/ Unruly Version, Composed and Recited by Jo Richter, Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches

lyrics to sixteen worlds away


Let us glve you what we've got
there's no reason for the things that broke your heart
that was the last thing that he sa!d 

l'm feeling pretty good
considering the circumstance
he sald with a sigh

he got a little Jaded
he decided joy and pa!n
both were slightly somewhat overrated
Simply incidental to existence ln the Ether

she was standing on the road ln the Rags of her remorse
eyes so Bright
and on her golden platform ln the 
mud of what was Lost

l'm sixteen worlds away from you
she sa!d
l know lt's hard to get lt through your head

l'm here and there
and lt's getting difficult 
to keep my continuity-
(for reasons that are not exactly clear to me)

Sixteen Worlds Away

Terry created this magnificent synth music and invited me to add some guitar--He  graciously allowed me to publish here on my page- As always, such a treat to collaborate with Him--

Effervecent Effluvia with Tea R Sea

This is the 4th installment of the tale of the Hobo Cyberpunks quest for the Holy Dumpling-- The Smoking Trout and friends welcome all of you who care to to hear .. We thank you one an all for joining us on the bus😊 

Tea R Sea-(Terry) (Co-Producer/ Synth keyboardist/ARTWORK
TexMex Shaman(Stephen)-Co-producer/ electric guitar
Nadia-Lyrics and vocals and Piano
Uziel-keyboards/synth
Stonerjazz(Jeff) lyrics/vocals Roland Bass/drum generator

Nadia 's Word cllps and ldeas come from Passages ln Tom Wolfe's Book "Electric Kool aid Acid Test"

 THE BUS by Jeff gardiner

Get on the bus get on the bus, Get on the bus wlth us
c'mon c'mon get on the bus
There's Gus, who drives the bus and he does Everything for us
He's got the peddle down--

and all the band and larry mary sid and johnny too and that's to jjust to name a few
and all of you who have the eyes and ears to hear and see-
all of us are on that bus Telepathically
so you had better be ln the vicinity of the bus
whose designated destination ls infinity and all points ln between

Believe you me, there ls no comfort or relief ln Clarity
Truer words were never spoken and even though we're all broken
here's a little token of the love l'm feeling for the instant beauty of the moment

Everyone ls psychedelic from those purple Mlcrodots
Fuel ls burning under stars so bright
on the bus, 10 feet off the ground
blacktop slippin under us at half the speed of light

Now lt comes flowln down, lt washes over me
something l can hear, but l can't exactly see-
Cans are Blarin, l'm just starin
hearin things we can't believe

music soothin, lt's not Taxing so relaxing
making music with some friends of mine
making noises so Delightful-
on the bus, where betrayal ls the only thing
that's not allowed
Come along, you're all invited to ride the bus with us
get on the bus get on the bus
c'mon get on the bus
don't make a Fuss
Just get on the bus

Get on The Bus (Holy Dumpling #4) Tea R Sea/Uziel/TexMex Shaman/Nadia Selvaggi

MlCK and l made this song over two years ago--He most generously agreed to let me Publish---You may have heard lt at his address- We both Love thls song very much, And we hope you do too!!:):)

Production and all orchestrations By Teth Sin
Lyrics and Singing ------by Stonerjazz

The Maestro

captured in the eddy of the river bright, the still life painted with the colors of the soul, the dead-eyed and the damaged wander through the landscape of the misty light without compassion for our plight.

even in the darkest night there’s drops of paint, notes from my guitar, and tiny light that usher in such lush delights, though worthless in the merchants eye, the maestro has the wings to fly…

it’s a big mess, got a hole in my chest, taken down and crushed like apples in a press, i confess to everything i’ve ever done. every single one of us… on the run.

when minds are quiet, the stink of revolution floats in the air, and the overlords they waste away in deep despair… slippin in the deep end not so quietly. fantastic sights!!
tin can rattle in the back, living in a tiny shack, standing in the middle of a two lane blacktop gazing at a cloud i saw some thirty years ago.

The Maestro  featurlng Teth Sin

A large Male Wooley Mammoth stood 13 feet at the shoulder and weighed ln at 26 thousand pounds--

Tracking the Mighty  Mammoth

Another Guitar Confabulation With TexMex Shaman whom also did the producing-
This has left me without adequate adjectives-So for those of you who are lovers of the guitar and who  care to, please have a listen--You be the judge-- The soundcloud Al dubbed lt NEUROFUNK--🕉

VELCRON (jamming with TexMex Shaman)

Jo Sent this poem along with his excellent encouragements-- We conspired to make some good orchestration for his beautiful work-l am so honored to work with him on this project!

poem / copyright jo richter:

the milkman who used to collect
and replace empty jars
a figment of folklore now
of pageants and rural farce

streamed into raw senses
tuned in to see to forget
there is nowhere to head to now
but right into your head

far away, some milkmaid counts
her hoard of subscription fees
to gather gem regalia
that match the icy queen‘s

and all around the watchtower
wild weeds rise and bloom
swirls of living, breathing colour
where feral painters roam

the mountain king bequeathes
fluid shards of liquid glass
to his river daughters
lunatics dwell on the grass

and orpheus, oh orpheus
sings and plays the lyre
while a tribe of nanobots
dances round the fire

out of their caves, a race
of intrepid homunculi swarm
to join the merry carnival
to feel the bliss, to risk the harm

milky oceans churned by gods
give birth to shapes and sounds
while mythical milkmen undetered
still make their morning rounds

Leave of Absence(A poem Written by Jo Richter-(Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches)

A grand Collaborative Collison between WE Three-- Hats off to Jo and Mark and a blg thanks for lncludlng me, Such a TREAT to make and hear!! Cheers and thanks to all those that may peruse__

poem / copyright jo richter:

he had thrown shells
through bedroom windows
watched debris rain down
on strollers and dogs

his patriot self
got lost in the trenches
he watched himself die
survive and fight on

STAINED-GLASS PROPOSAL
RE-WATCHED ON A SMARTPHONE
MONOLITH LONGING
AS THE BATTERY DRAINS

she watched the news
frontlines too static
left to fetch water
thirsting for hope

she tried to comfort
a spark without flame
when little remains
you pick up what's left

A TOWNHOUSE WEDDING
FIVE DOZEN BRIDES
A DAY BEFORE LEAVING
A TENDER WHITE LIE

warfare has lingered
lining live ghosts
acting and watching
in camouflage clothes

ghosts (Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches & Re-Evolutlon Cafe' Orchestra

This ls the next installment-Canto lll  of Jo Richter's  wonderful and Epic Poem DEPARTURES- Terry of Tea R Sea invited me to help ln the making of some accompaniment for Jo's Readling- We all three stretched ourselves to make something that we like-We fervently hope that those of you who find your way to this work also like and enjoy our efforts:) jg

Jo Rlchter-Vocals/lyrics
Terry- Synth and Drums---Producer
jeff g- vocals/artwork
Roland/Boss- Bassline and drums


CANTO lll By Jo Richter

What goes around: Unless familiar minds adopt
a major work of art, it cannot be recognized,
not even by the finely tuned, academic apparatus
of the scholarly persuasion. It longs to be gently
directed out of obscurity by intimate alignment.
It unequivocally needs to be claimed by readers,
by listeners, and by those who take it to their hearts
and minds. Then, only then, it comes around.

Most poets, though, feel little inclination
to join the showy, self-assertive blaze of what
the market forces call a fair. There is a disconnect within the meanings held within this term.
He remembers public events pertaining to focus on
poetry that only captured the self-congratulatory
sensations of those who spoke the welcomes and
thus abused the art to elevate themselves.

In Schlegel, in Schiller and in Borges, he tried to
find the remedy to reconcile this rift, but
neither understanding nor play nor underlaying fantasy
would overcome that star-crossed constellation
that casts a valley made of shadows between the
divergent meanings of such a simple word as fair.
If those he spoke to found beauty only in the advancement of their social fortunes, nothing could be saved.

Of course, he drifted off the course his art
demanded. He tried to quiet down the insurgent
poetry that sought expression through his puny
skills. This very nearly drove him to seek refuge
at the place ineptly called asylum which gathers all
the muted voices in wanton seclusion. Spiteful, he
wrote once again trying to outline all hope that
remained for aesthetic rigour and beauty to survive.

Eventually, he gave in and all his art served
but for one end: to represent the conundrum of
his being who he is within a stoic pattern of
existence he could not but accept. He wrote
for stones, for plants, for lakes, and for hills that
listened more intensely than his fellow men. He starved
for lack of response but refrained from complaining.
That‘s when he first came ‘round, beheld the spire.

lnsurgent Poetry-Departure-Canto Vlll-- With Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches and Tea R Sea

The Original intent of this tune was something quite different than what lt has become. One of the most beautiful Things about a Collaboration ls that sometimes lt goes where lT wants to go- This ls one of those Cases:):)
Stephen who gave wonderful Guitar and percussives Also did the lnltlal production Work- We had somehow entered the land of EDM with the introduction of the lyrics- And then much to my pleasure and surprise, REKHA Came Aboard and brought her lovely and formidable  voice, humor, and production skills to co-produce with Stephen for this final whimsical break up /apocalypse song- Thank you my friends, lt doesn't get any better than this;)

Time ls up time ls up
don't you know
time to go
time ls up, time to go
The jig ls up
That's the show

Time ls up
time to go
the jig ls up, don't you know
travel light take that flight
Don't look back, don't call or write
l ain't mad, l know you couldn't help lt

We all treated her so bad
and now she's mad
l wish that l could make amends
but she's all done
She's gonna squash us like a bug'

repeat

Time - Is - Up/Armageddon-Featurlng TEXMEX SHAMAN and REKHA-lYERN [FE]

this ls   The Smoking Trouts' fifth installment ln the "Quest for the Holy Dumpling"  Album---the ongoing story of the bus and other cosmic stuff--:)
A HUGE Thanks to my Friends AND  conspirators on this song and project-We have had a Time!!!  Hoping Ya'll will enjoy thls bus rlde as much as we have--

Tea R Sea--(Terry) Bass/ Drums/ Synth/ Producer extraordinaire/ Artwork
UZlEL---Vocallst(of the most amazing kind)/ Production and arrangement
TexMex Shaman--(Stephen) Guitarist extraordinaire/producer/ Art work
Sonic Structures and Silent Stretches (Jo)-Poet extraordinaire/ lyrical consultant/lyrics/ Synth(cello and woodwinds)
StonerJazz(jeff) Lyrics/Vocals

LYRlCS
l just wanted to get out of the house for a day or two
l got my little backpack out of the closet
and put lt on
put my thumb out on the road
and l was gone

And the next thing that l know
l'm standing ln the middle of new Mexico
one thousand miles and two months down the line
Along a two lane blacktop ln the desert sun-

A bus A bus
with a destination of infinity
comes by and stops right ln front of me
and as l board, l begin to spout a verse of poetry that l know nothing about
and lt does not belong to me
ln someone else's voice
l did not seem to have a choice--

The poem(by Jo Rlchter)

To feed the foodless
you require fire
but how do you nourish
those wanting a mind of their own?

do you mess up their lives
with Olympian lre
or serve them a dish
of the altered kind-

The old one who spoke made pause dramatic
then asked the question
ln a very low voice
or would you invoke
an old myth cathartic
to force into action
To color each choice

The divine assembly
all nodded their chins
and sald "Sanat Kumara"
you've got what lt takes

We'll teach some Hag ln Albuquerque
The ropes of how the dumplings begins
and these guys will come from near and far
to taste the wondrous dish she makes
      ********************************
Stu he sald: Turn this Bus around
we're Albuquerque Bound
This guy just sald
there's a dumpling cooking ln that town

You may ask why some of us are looking for another paradigm
Trying to stop the world for just a moment
searching quietly as l think
Pessimism ls completely underrated
lt's lt's own worst enemy
as emotions go

There's just the wind ln the windows
Remlnlcent of distant overlapping chatter
of souls that came before and after

as we're all staring ln disbelief
at the panorama through the Stink

New Mexico(As we're just Starin)- from "The Quest for the  Holy Dumpling"#5 --The smoklng Trout

l am Forever grateful to Donald for lending me These Amazing words--You can flnd the Orlglnal verslon  of "baked sale"  on hls Page "oxtraces poetry" 


Baked Sale.  A poem by Oxtraces Poetry(Donald Stabler)

Don't dilly dalli. Daffy mafia hoax design my church has stars inside. Poltergeist write your love letters in the counter dust more often our starship ensign wave has wars where the stars butt out. Trickles tickles lamby pie the wedding was spooky nuggets as the heavens spit acid and oaths. Marvy buckets uranium implants move me more and the rays hold petunias for solar energies. The dock is a peer into mad tempers of paradise you love in samples. Click bait pale lunatic moon over the deserted beach of junk and black tar the train is coming. At midnight peas jump from pods filling the vistas of encumbrance. Line up ducks they're clinical quacks they shout the new prescription inclined to dope the bunch beauty. Discord out of Tunisia limericks Nantucket was dick fuckit suck it as long as fats sausage hanging convenient to appraisals. Lurch caress your wiggy mustache and tap dance the jubilee celebration balls of Moses in the narthax. Then kiss the monkey's hand. Infectious laughter my life was worthless the nest infestation climbs up into the coconuts my nose bleeds purple wine. The winos pick up sticks around the fire's baked at midnight sale of futilities.

Baked Sale/A poem written by Oxtraces Poetry  (Donald Stabler) (printed poem)

Producer-Art-Guitar-videographer  Texmex Shamans
lyrics vocals- StonerJazz

check out The vldeo     youtu.be/vYRrSahKHng
'"Disclaimer"

"Any similarity to real or imagined events ls probably not a coincidence
No TOADS were injured or molested ln any way during the making of this song--

The headwaters of this song came from Stephens rendition of that Toad ln our New Mexico song's cover art-- We were discussing that toad and lt's significance  to the riders on the bus--as the conversation became more Hilarious We resolved to write a song about that toad and that ls what we did--😎- Huge respect and gratitude to Stephen for hls Production and art skills and of course his amazing guitar Play and his Excellent Friendship--- Welcome to those of you who find your way to this tune We hope you enjoy lt!!

THE TOAD
l was flying down state 95
just ten miles East of Blyth
Hot Rod Lincoln blaring on the radio
My ole pickup truck lt overheated
l had to stop and find some shade
underneath a Palo Verde tree
a blg ole Toad There he spoke to me
He sald "Why don't you give me just a little lick Right here, Right behind my ear

Now you may think lt's a little funny, but l can guarantee
You will thank me ln the end my Friend--

Not wanting to disappoint my new found friend
l took a little tiny lick
and washed lt down with a Beer
After Frothin at the mouth for a little blt
my Consciousness lt took a hit
and headed south ln a flood of light

There are no word that can describe what happened next-
but l can say for sure without a doubt, unequivocally
My brand new Paradigm got tangled up with my Epiphany!!

Shit kickin Toad lickin with TexMex Shaman

SOUNDS GOOD PLAYED LOUD

Tea R Sea (Terry) composer on syth and percussion-Producer
Stonerjazz (Jeff) lyrics and vocals

Smoke  

What was lt ln that day
That turned away so arrogantly
While leaves twisted and glared
obviously Angry
and repulsed by the very Air
lt;s not the way my Mother said that Trees would be

Sitting ln the garden ln the early morning hours
while the cows are sleeping soundly ln the meadow cross the roadway


Against his leg, his dog Moon ls leaning
While he's waiting, all aquiver, for the whistle
that signifies the starting of the workday

Drinking Coffee, Thick black and steaming
contemplating nothing but the quiet swirling
of the smoke that's curling
ln the stillness of the moment
from the cigarette that's burning brightly
ln the darkness that he's smoking

Even as l think lt
knowing that lt's futile
hoping for a resurrection
of the love that left me
ln the labyrinth of the brokenhearted
while the monster slumbers ln the featherbed
savoring lt's self inflicted wounds
and dreaming of Revenge

Digital Molasses  wlth Tea R Sea

Another(the sixth) installment with my friends, these amazing Trout😊 And our Friend and percussionist Tot.

The Smoking Trout 

Uziel---Lyrics and vocals
Tea R Sea--Producer/Synth/sound effects
TexMex Shaman --lead Guitar/Bass
StonerJazz--Background guitar/altered voicing
And a Special Thank You to Tot. For the Wonderful beats!!!


Lyrics

 those normal little things... pass us by, pass ussssssss
mirage of migrant, trucks full of food tiny boutiques nose up looking down
street dancers, performers, the arts little stalls selling fruit

and the bus tumbles through

HOWEVER GUS, You remember Gus? The driver of this bus...
Regretfully informs us that our engine food is at the edge of E, and the only thing we'll be running on soon is fumes

And as we approach, We can hear
A dusty massive heart beating city industry eldritch being and foreboding
Sitting atop his sky scrapers gloating
"Hungry enough yet?" It's beastly maw cries! "It's 10 for 5 and the price only went up 6.7%
Nothing to you, you're worker bees and you can make more honey, can't you?"

While yes that's true
We are the life blood that flow through
But people like me and you
Can't afford it

Fortune cookie flavor our journey
It's the last I got
I'm looking for the old woman
The gate keeper to the other side
Where we have the wholly divide
Away from this hellish relish
And Instead:
Dumpling soup, dumpling plump, fried in foie gras butter perhaps?
Holy condiment burns through fiery on your Thai chili adjusted tongue,

BUT THAT'S JUST ME! It tastes different for everyone

"OH, I can't help it!

We are all starving, the bus is outta' gas, and spewing smoke, Gus is cussing up a storm, Roberta's lighting up her last swiff... I think Larry's getting water?... but we're all outta food"
said Jimmy to Sally and Stu

All digging through our pockets to get the last crumb or two
Looking forward to what we have to share
But it looks like
It's not a lot

STONERJAZZ

Pinned to spotlight

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