Thursday, April 30, 2015

Exciting news!



Walt Leuzinger is featured on:


Two songs and a great interview start at apx. 117.

Congratulations Walt!




Wednesday, April 29, 2015


what do you think?

waiting?

day dreaming?

planning?

regretting?


Tuesday, April 28, 2015



As I Write This Letter
Tom Hennen

I cannot wait for you any longer.

 The warm breezes are gone.

The ripples in the water are frozen. 

The forest is falling behind the rest of the landscape.

 Snowflakes are messages sent

 Into the cold night to keep you company

 Until I arrive. 

The earth is a letter circling the post office.

 I am a foreign word scrawled on its surface.


Monday, April 27, 2015


David Lindley does a killer version of this tune.



Soul Of A Man
Blind Willie Johnson

I’m gonna ask a question, Please answer if you can, 
If any you children can tell me, 
What is the soul of man? What is the soul of a man?
Won't somebody tell me, answer if you can! 
Want somebody tell me, what is the soul of a man, what is the soul of a man? 
Well I've travelled in different countries, I've travelled foreign lands. 
I've found nobody could tell me, about the soul of a man, about the soul of a man.
I saw a crowd stand talking, I just came up in time 
The teachers and the doctors and the lawyers, say a man ain't nothing but his mind, a man ain't nothing but his mind. 
Won't somebody tell me, answer if you can! 
Want somebody tell me, what is the soul of a man, what is the soul of a man?
I read the bible often, I tries to read it right, 
As far as I can understand, it ain’t nothing but a burning light, it ain’t nothing but a burning light.
Christ stood in the temple, the people stood amazed 
He was showing the doctors and the lawyers, how to raise a body from the grave, how to raise a body from the grave, raise a body from the grave, raise a body from the grave.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Saturday, April 25, 2015


Detroit Pheasant 
Michael Lauchlan 



From a window, the boss calls to us
where we load his truck with bricks.
“Turn around fellas-look.”
A pheasant wades through the brown grass
across the street, vanishing
and emerging from the tangle.
A shed leans near a phone pole.
Bumpers glint from the weeds.
Blocks from the old foundation
angle through the earth.
The pheasant paces his courtyard.

We have killed the city which lived here.
The hieroglyph of its streets and rails
has joined the ancient lost tongues.
Buds unfold on a dwarf maple.
A rooster hollers.


Friday, April 24, 2015


From the Garden 
Anne Sexton 



Come, my beloved,
consider the lilies.
We are of little faith.
We talk too much.
Put your mouthful of words away
and come with me to watch
the lilies open in such a field,
growing there like yachts,
slowly steering their petals
without nurses or clocks.
Let us consider the view:
a house where white clouds
decorate the muddy halls.
Oh, put away your good words
and your bad words. Spit out
your words like stones!
Come here! Come here!
Come eat my pleasant fruits.


Thursday, April 23, 2015


           Apology Song          

Walt Sample

Green eyed words punch yellow black and blue
I a jealous man with the tongue of a fool
Feed me a fresh bar of Ivory soap
One more chance just a few more feet of rope

I’m gonna write you an apology song
Twelve rhymin’ lines saying I was wrong
Strummin’ chords in the key of regret
Singing like a man beggin’ for a safety net

I’ll pull the reins tight on my jack ass mouth
Only whisper gentle words like a timid church mouse
Three days without you gave me frozen pain
I could feel my life rushing down the drain

I’m gonna write you an apology song
Twelve rhymin’ lines saying I was wrong
Strummin’ chords in the key of regret
Singing like a man beggin’ for a safety net







Wednesday, April 22, 2015



Spring Evening on Blind Mountain  
Louise Erdrich

I won’t drink wine tonight
 I want to hear what is going on
 not in my own head
 but all around me.
 I sit for hours
 outside our house on Blind Mountain.
 Below this scrap of yard
 across the ragged old pasture,
 two horses move
 pulling grass into their mouths, tearing up
 wildflowers by the roots.
 They graze shoulder to shoulder.
 Every night they lean together in sleep.
 Up here, there is no one
 for me to fail.
 You are gone.
 Our children are sleeping.
 I don’t even have to write this down.



Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Great article in the latest No Depression about Chris Hillman.

Great magazine check it out:


Chris Hillman Will Never Forget Seeing Pete Seeger, The Beatles, and the Boss

      Though many music fans still do not recognize his name, Chris Hillman has had a monumental impact on American music and may have one of the most impressive resumes of any contemporary musician. He’s probably most famous for being a founder of the legendary Byrds in 1964, with Roger McGuinn, Gene Clark, David Crosby, and Michael Clarke. They recorded an electric version of Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man” that hit the top of the American and European charts and went on to be recognized among the founders of folk rock, psychedelic rock, and country rock.

     But, before that, Hillman was a California guy who grew up under a surfboard. At age 17, he played mandolin for a San Diego-based bluegrass band called the Scottsville Squirrel Barkers, who included Bernie Leadon – a future founder of The Eagles. Hillman next joined another bluegrass band called The Golden State Boys (later The Hillmen).

    In 1968, Hillman left the Byrds to create The Flying Burrito Brothers with ex-Byrd Gram Parsons. Hillman says the Burritos “created an environment” for outlaw country music. While the Byrds put more rock into their country-rock, the Burritos often put in more country.

    After the Burritos, Hillman’s next venture was with Stephen Stills in the short-lived but innovative band Manassas. The group’s self-titled debut album is one of pop music’s most brilliant works – a masterpiece that melded rock, bluegrass, salsa, blues, and country music.

     Other of his pursuits include The Souther-Hillman-Furay Band with Poco’s Richie Furay and John David Souther. In the 1980s, he joined forced with Herb Pedersen and others to form the Desert Rose Band. But, Hillman and Pedersen eventually headed back to bluegrass, joining Tony and Larry Rice in Rice, Rice, Hillman and Pedersen.

     Hillman may not get the acclaim enjoyed by a virtuoso mandolinist like David Grisman, but his touch on the mandolin – particularly during his blazing acoustic versions of the Byrds’ classic “Eight Miles High” – can often go beyond sublime. And when he and Pedersen trade mandolin and guitar licks on “The Bells of Rhymney” – a song first recorded by Pete Seeger and popularized by the Byrds – he can paint a landscape as beautiful as one done by Van Gogh.
With such a resume in mind, listen carefully to Hillman’s choices of the best and most influential concerts he has seen:

    “I saw Pete Seeger in a small theater in San Diego when I was only 15, and I walked backstage,” Hillman recalls. “He was so kind to me. He told me to keep practicing and to ‘sing out like you mean it.’ ”

    Another show a year later also made a lasting impression.
“I was a 16-year-old kid five feet away from the Stanley Brothers in an L.A. club,” he recalls. “I was watching them play and wanting to play bluegrass.” The Stanley Brothers, one of the most influential bands in bluegrass history, were also known for brilliant harmonies.

    His favorite concert memories aren’t all folk and bluegrass, though. Hillman also was one of the fortunate people to see a legendary August 1965 concert by four pretty well-known Liverpool rock and rollers. “I saw The Beatles at the Hollywood Bowl,” he says, noting that it was during the Revolver period. “They came out on stage wearing Nehru-collar, military-style matching suits. They were fantastic.”

    The Beatles that night played a 12-song set: “Twist and Shout,”  “She's a Woman,”  “I Feel Fine,”  “Dizzy Miss Lizzy,” “Ticket to Ride,” “Everybody's Tryin' to Be My Baby,” “Can't Buy Me Love,” “Baby's in Black,” “I Wanna Be Your Man,” “A Hard Day's Night,” “Help!” and  “I'm Down.”

    Two decades later, Hillman caught The Boss in Los Angeles: “I was not a fan of Bruce Springsteen’s records,” he admits. “But I was sitting in the bleachers at the L.A. Coliseum and saw him with Nils Lofgren. He was incredible. He gave off a feeling of ‘there’s no other place I would rather be.’ He was so committed to the moment.”

    That show was a part of a four-night stand by Springsteen in September 1985. About 85,000 fans filled the ancient Los Angeles stadium each night during that run to witness the Boss’s wildly successful Born in the USA tour.

     Hillman says he “was taken” by a Brad Paisley show about three years ago, but he doesn’t go to concerts anymore. “Because of the crowds and chaos,” he explains. Crowds and chaos were part of his heyday in the '60s. He flatly says those days were the pinnacle of his career, and “The Bells of Rhymney” was the song that “defined” the group.

     “We were guys with no rock chops who all came out of folk music,” he says. “We were five of the most diverse, weird people getting together, and we created a sound.”  

Monday, April 20, 2015


Dream Shepherd
Walt Sample

Shifting shifting shifting grains of desert sand
Cover my yesterdays
I wander aimlessly across my mind’s land
Chasing after bugbear strays 

Oh I’m searching for my dream shepherd 
I’m lost I’m untethered 
Oh I’m searching for my dream shepherd 

Chasing chasing chasing fading tinsel flashbacks
Reflections dissolving 
Haunting like the brass bugle’s notes of taps
Grave stone phantoms calling crying

Oh I’m searching for my dream shepherd 
I’m lost I’m untethered 
Oh I’m searching for my dream shepherd 

Digging digging digging deeper to the grave
Of my flaming soul
I’m leading the mirage parade
Around the edges of the smoky hole

Oh I’m searching for my dream shepherd 
I’m lost I’m untethered 
Oh I’m searching for my dream shepherd 









Sunday, April 19, 2015


April showers bring May flow......yeah, yeah, yeah, another day of heavy rain.
Easy for writers block to kick in. Some of these ideas are tried and true but some might be fresh and new to some of you. Sorry, new brand of coffee.........

When I am really stuck, I make a list of end rhyme words from one or two random songs. Cut the sheet into little strips of paper and toss them in a bowl and pull out the rhyme pairs and write a song.



10 Techniques From Professional Artists For Breaking Through Creative Blocks
These strategies can help you get unstuck and start thinking and working creatively again.

By Jane Porter 

Danielle Krysa had a successful career as a creative director for an advertising and branding agency in Canada. She was proud of her professional work, but she was secretly making her own art on the side. Krysa didn't talk about her creative work with the same bravado that she approached her professional work. She rarely showed anyone what she was making and often felt a rush of jealousy when coming across the work of artists she admired.

"I’d feel a wave of soul-crushing jealousy—the kind that made me think, 'Who am I kidding? I could never make something like that,'" Krysa writes in her book Creative Block. But in 2009, Krysa decided to do something about her angst and the resistance she was running up against in her creative work. She started a blog called The Jealous Curator, where she posts daily about artists whose work makes her "jealous, but in a good way."

For her book, Krysa interviewed 50 creative people from around the world about their work, what inspires them, and what their go-to projects are when they feel stuck and want to get unblocked.

Here are techniques from 10 artists featured in Krysa's book to help you get unstuck when you're up against a creative block.



1. Take a Stroll Around The Neighborhood

Often a creative block comes from an inability to stay focused on just one task at hand. Your mind feels overwhelmed or distracted by too many things. "Your brain feels like a big knot, and you only think of your kitchen that needs a cleaning," says German-based photographer Matthias Heiderich in Krysa's book. "It makes sense to stop working then, and to re-sharpen the senses."

Heiderich's solution is what he calls "Once Around the Block," inspired by the name of a song by musician Badly Drawn Boy. Simply getting out of your chair, exploring your own neighborhood, paying attention to the houses and sidewalks and shop windows rather than staying stuck in your head and your workspace, can help reenergize you. "Trying to see the banal objects around you in a new light can be a good brain boost," he says.

2. Set Tight Parameters To Play In

Having endless possibilities to choose from can be overwhelming and ultimately lead to a block. That's why setting rules or parameters for yourself can help you start thinking creatively without getting lost in the wilderness of possiblities.

Mixed-media artist Trey Speegle suggests making a drawing and photocopying it 50 times, then altering each image in as many ways as you can think of. "The important thing is to turn off your brain and just play with a repeated form and let your mind see where no ideas or thought processes takes you," he says. "Create your own tight parameters . . . Then give yourself a lot of room to play."

3. Never Underestimate The Power Of Willpower

Sometimes getting past a creative block simply means pushing through the resistance you're feeling. It's easy to run from a project that's giving you trouble, but sticking with it when you feel uncomfortable takes willpower.

"There will be one point in every project where I decide that my idea is absolutely stupid," says Kristi Malakoff, a Canadian-based artist who makes large installations using cut paper. "It’s just pure willpower that gets me through these moments."

4. Don't Wait For Inspiration

Inspiration doesn't just strike. It's cultivated. Waiting around for the perfect moment to launch into a project or tackle a creative challenge will keep you waiting for a long time. Just do the work, advises South African ceramics artist Ruan Hoffmann. "Through work comes new ideas, and the spark to either follow and develop, or develop and then abandon," he says.

One place Hoffmann finds inspiration is in the words of painter and photographer Chuck Close when he says:


"Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself. Things occur to you."

5. Seek Out An Assignment

Getting past a creative block means stepping outside your comfort zone. If you feel uncomfortable, you're pushing your boundaries. And that's where good ideas start to take shape.

“Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work.”

"Ask someone close to you to give you an assignment,'" says collage and mixed-media artist Hollie Chastain. "Make sure it’s not an idea that you have frequented on a regular basis in your work. Keep true to your vision and technique as you work."

6. Put Random Things Together To Tell A Story

What story are you trying to tell? Whether you're working on a design project or trying to come up with a solution to a technical problem, or writing a book—you're telling a story. What is that story and how can you tell it in a new way?

"The human brain seems to want to understand things," says Swedish-based painter and illustrator, Camilla Engman. "If you put two things together, it immediately starts to think about why and what. For me, that makes up a story."

7. Dare To Go Against What You Know

We often turn to the same solutions or strategies for solving creative challenges that we've used in the past. "You’ve probably developed a certain style that is unmistakably yours. Your creative muscle has become strong, maybe overbearing. It’s time to stretch," says Canadian-based painter Fiona Ackerman.

Ackerman suggests trying to do something unfamiliar or unrecognizable to the work you've done in the past. "This exercise always helps me break out when I’m feeling bored by myself," she says.

8. Take To The Road

Trying to see your neighborhood or block in a new way, as Heiderich suggests, can be a useful way to train your brain to recognize new details around you, but putting yourself in an entirely new and unfamiliar surrounding can also have the effect of re-energizing you in unexpected ways.

"Taking to the road with my camera never fails to inspire me," says photographer and writer Jen Altman. "Sometimes it’s not only the act of the voyage—however short it may be—but the state of mind that envelops you as the road widens. Some of my best ideas have come as I’m chasing the sun across the horizon."

9. Start Again

Often getting out of a rut requires trashing the whole thing and starting from scratch. Instead of trying to untangle the mess you're in, what about setting it aside and creating a new mess using what you've learned from the first attempt. When that try fails, set it aside and start over again.

"Draw something on a piece of paper. Stare at it. Trash it. Draw it again on another piece of paper. Stare at it. Trash it. Repeat," suggests collage and mixed-media artist Arian Behzadi. "Once you feel you’re done, uncrumple all the pieces of paper and line them up in order." Seeing the progress you've made, the attempts you took and abandoned, will help you not only make progress, but also learn from the process you used to get there.

10. Go Toward What Scares You Most

If something scares you, instead of avoiding it, try getting as close to it as you can. Fear can be a powerful motivator and embracing your fears can help you get over a block. Painter Lisa Golightly suggests making a list of the three creative things you're most afraid to try and then forcing yourself do those three things.

"Fear is a big motivator for me," says Golightly. "A college professor once told me that if I was afraid of something, that meant I had to do it. That has basically shaped my life."

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Classic songs are spawned by everyday experiences. Chris Hillman and Gram Parsons shared a house in California. Gram came home one day with a few scrapes after dumping his motorcycle. They stared talking about it and wrote this song. 


Wheels
Chris Hillman, Gram Parsons

We've all got wheels to take ourselves away
We've got telephones to say what we can't say
We've all got higher and higher every day
Come on, wheels, take this boy away

We're not afraid to ride
We're not afraid to die
So come on, wheels, take me home today
Come on, wheels, take this boy away

Now when I feel that my time is almost up
And destiny is in my right hand
I'll turn to him who made my fate so strong
Come on, wheels, make this boy a man

We're not afraid to ride
We're not afraid to die
Come on, wheels, take me home today
Come on, wheels, take this boy away
Come on, wheels, take this boy away




Friday, April 17, 2015

Thursday, April 16, 2015

I read Gary Ewer's blog The Essential Secrets Of Songwriting earlier this morning and it started my motor revving.



Here is a snippet:


If you've been building your own catalog of songs over the past few years, and you've got some or most of it recorded, take some time to listen to those recordings, one after the other, and after each song ask yourself the following questions:
1.What’s this song’s most exciting moment?
2.What is innovative in this song? (What sets it apart from everyone else’s music in this genre?)
3.What happens in the first 15 seconds that makes someone want to keep listening?
4.Why would someone want to listen again to this song?
5.Does each song in my catalog offer my audience a unique and exciting musical experience?


Great advice. Check out the blog:



Wednesday, April 15, 2015


Here is a great article from Clay Mills. 
His web site is www.songtown.com check it out!

6 KEYS TO WRITING COMPELLING CREATIVE SONGS
CLAY MILLS


Let’s face it, there’s nothing better than playing a song for an audience, a publisher, or a friend and having it move them. Excite them. Make them dance. Or leave them tearing up. As writers, we want to reach out and touch people with our songs. As a professional songwriter, I have written many, MANY songs that, for one reason or another, have failed to move people in the slightest. I have also been blessed to have other songs reach millions and sell millions of records. Over the years, I’ve compiled a checklist that helps me move people more consistently with my songs. On a good day, I’m lucky to get these elements firing on all cylinders.

1. Believability. This might be the number one thing I check and recheck as I write a song. Asking yourself, “Is this believable?” is essential to writing a compelling song. “Does it feel real?” This seems like a simple thing to master, but it’s perhaps the hardest. Great actors want to make their acting seem so effortless that it feels they are NOT acting. And great writers have a knack for making a song feel “unwritten.”

2. Bring Something New to the Party. If you study great writers and artists throughout history, you will see a consistent pattern emerge: they were unafraid to incorporate the old with the new, to mix styles together that were not mixed before, and to stretch the boundaries by bringing something new to party.

3. The Song is King. Often, writers sit down to write after a life event inspires and moves them to express it in a song. But also, they’re so tied to writing the song exactly as it happened in their story that they lose sight of where the song needs to go. The song will reveal it’s own story. Listen, and it will lead you to places you never thought possible. As a Hall of Fame songwriter once said, “Don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story!” The Song is always King.

4. Don’t Forget the Listener. Have you ever talked with someone, and you get the feeling they don’t care what you think or feel? They just go on and on about something that happened to them? Songs are a conversation between the writer/singer and the listener. Don’t be guilty of a one-sided conversation. Always keep in mind who you are writing the song for. What are they thinking and feeling when they hear your words and melody?

5. Improving On What You Have. Study, learn, and master the craft of writing. Nothing gets in the way of emotion moving a listener like technical mistakes. Learning to re-write and edit your songs can take them to the next level. Studying your craft and becoming a better writer is a lifetime journey. The more you master craft, the more consistently you will touch people with your songs.

6. Practice Subtraction Over Addition. Many writers pour their hearts and souls out on paper because they have so much to say. But great, compelling writing lives in the blank spaces. It’s about learning to say the most with the fewest words. Make each word have weight and importance, and realize what you leave out is just as powerful sometimes as what you leave in.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015



Nam Night
Pete "Doc" Fraser

God, how I hate the night. 
Twilight creeping in graying out the green, 
turning the jungle black. 
Fear grows inside like the winding of a clock. 
Under the black cover of darkness, 
the hunter becomes the hunted 
and Charlie owns the night. 
The fear is as real as the night 
and grips us all in its unrelenting hold. 
Through the sleepless hours the fatigue builds 
sapping both mind and body. 
In the tense haze of early morning, 
you lie on the jungle floor 
while waiting for the morning sun 
to take away the night's hiding blanket of darkness. 
It is in the morning, 
as the sun paints the jungle from black to green 
that you begin to relax the night's vigil 
and you take the countryside back from Charlie. 


Monday, April 13, 2015

Writing prompt was black hole.

              Grandma Would Sing               
Walt Sample

Grandma would sing
Little finger carrots middle finger corn
Once the May sun keeps the garden warm
Little finger lettuce middle finger beans
Either thumb keeps the zucchini green

Grandpa tilled the rich Iowa soil
It was the color of tractor oil
Loose and fine just like his Skoal
Easy to poke little black holes

Grandma would sing her plantin’ song
On garden day from breakfast dawn
I pulled the cart with jars of seeds
Six full of corn and two full of peas

Grandma would sing
Little finger carrots middle finger corn
Once the May sun keeps the garden warm
Little finger lettuce middle finger beans
Either thumb keeps the broccoli green

Grandma would sing her plantin’ song
On garden day from breakfast dawn
I pulled the cart with jars of seeds
Six full of corn and two full of peas

Grandma would sing
Little finger carrots middle finger corn
Once the May sun keeps the garden warm
Little finger lettuce middle finger beans
Either thumb keeps the zucchini green








Sunday, April 12, 2015




Bullheads
Michael Metivier   


We take more than our share,

Several dozen from the star-


Flecked cove of a red maple

Pond, fins tapered like steeples,


Gill to gill in the bucket

And bilge, drawn from a thicket


Of drowned roots

Into the night’s cool garrotes.


Sorrowful brothers

Choking on strange ethers,


Striving, eager, bent

Toward the sky by want:


It was not to be, this breathing,

Though not for nothing.






 Love this poem! I grew up on bullheads. Dad would clip a round red & white plastic bobber to my line and I would do my best to cast five feet from the muddy shore of a Mississippi oxbow just outside of Wilton Junction, Iowa. I had already threaded a wiggly garden worm on the Eagle Claw hook. Wouldn't take us long to have a sack full of brownish black fish headed home for dinner. Mom would heat the grease while Dad nailed them into a big maple tree by the fence in the back yard and skinned them. My job was hosing them clean with the garden hose. Good times and good food.


Saturday, April 11, 2015

Simple 4 verse refrain structure.
Simple 1-4-5 progression.
Extremely powerful song.



Freedom's Child
Billy Joe Shaver

At the breakin' of the dawn, day is born again
Just another missing link in an endless chain
Filling up the empty space left by one's who gone
Freedom's child is born today singing freedom's song

With his colors flying high and his gun in hand
Volunteered to fight and die in a foreign land
Just another minor chord in a worn out song
Freedom's child is marching there singing freedom's song

Drifting through a crowded park past an empty swing
Hidden in a sparrow's eye when it's on the wing
Planted on a lonely hill with his name unknown
Freedom's child was laid to rest singing freedom's song

At the breakin' of the dawn, day is born again
Just another missing link in an endless chain
Filling up the empty space left by one's who gone
Freedom's child is born today singing freedom's song
Freedom's child was laid to rest, singing freedom's song





Friday, April 10, 2015



Moving to Malibu 
Mary K. Stillwell 

Some nights I think of it,
moving to Malibu, just as I stretch,
like a cat stretches, to my full length,
as though I am easing into cool waters.
I imagine the blue of the sea;
the bright green leaves of the geranium
on the patio, the bright pink blooms,
the yellow sun and white sand,
in the distance, white triangles,
from the deck, wind chimes.
I will be as content and as happy
as Balboa. I will have breakfast
at my wicker table and in my wicker chair,
with the cats watching. I will taste
salt on my lips after coffee.
My door will be open. When you come,
you will carry a loaf of bread,
a bunch of flowers. The sunset
is brilliant; we might as well be anywhere.

Thursday, April 9, 2015



The talkers aren't strong; the strong don’t talk. 

 Myanmar Proverb



Saying is one thing, and doing another. 

Traditional Proverb



Time to jump off the lazy train and get some words on the page.
My excuses are even tired and worn out.
Got to make my own sun shine.


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Tuesday, April 7, 2015



April Rain Song
Langston Hughes

Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sellp-song on our roof at night--
And I love the rain.


Monday, April 6, 2015

Opening Day!




Centerfield
John Fogerty



Well, a-beat the drum and hold the phone
The sun came out today
We're born again, there's new grass on the field
A-roundin' third and headed for home
It's a brown-eyed handsome man
Anyone can understand the way I feel

Oh, put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Look at me, I can be centerfield

Well, I spent some time in the Mudville Nine
Watching it from the bench
You know I took some lumps, when the mighty Case struck out
So say hey, Willie, tell the Cobb 
And Joe DiMaggio
Don't say it ain't so, you know the time is now

Oh, put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Look at me, I can be centerfield

Yeah, I got it, I got it

Got a beat-up glove, a home-made bat
And a brand new pair of shoes
You know I think it's time to give this game a ride
Just to hit the ball, and touch 'em all
A moment in the sun
It's a-gone and you can tell that one good-bye

Oh, put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Look at me (yeah), I can be centerfield

Oh, put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Look at me, gotta be, centerfield
Yeah

Sunday, April 5, 2015


The Ozark Mountain Daredevils are in my top 3 of all time favorite bands. John Dillon wrote a gem of a song, Beauty In The River. My official Easter song. Love the saw at the intro.......

https://youtu.be/MHH4DuwdZIY



Beauty In The River
John Dillon

There's a beauty in the river
There's a beauty in the stream
There's a beauty in the forest at night
When the lonely night bird screams

And there's so much time for singin'
And so much time for words
There's so much time to listen
And so much time to be heard

There's a brighter day 'round the corner
There's a crown behind the hill
There's a city of light on that foggy mountain top
Where the wind is never still

And there's so much time in livin'
And so much time to die
There's so much time for laughin'
And so much time to cry

We must all stand in the water
We must find it when we roam
It don't matter what is said
We can wake up from the dead and roll away the stone
We can roll away the stone

There's a truth in the eyes of my woman
That no mortal ever knew
She lights my way like the coming of the day
When the sun shines on the dew

And there's so much time for singin'
And so much time for words
There's so much time to listen
And so much time to be heard

We must all stand in the water
We must find it when we roam
It don't matter what is said
We can wake up from the dead and roll away the stone
We can roll away the stone
(Hallelujah)

We must all stand in the water
We must find it when we roam
It don't matter what is said
We can wake up from the dead and roll away the stone
We can roll away the stone
(Lord, Lord)

We must all stand in the water
We must find it when we roam
It don't matter what is said
We can wake up from the dead and roll away the stone
We can roll away the stone




Saturday, April 4, 2015



Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey
Hayden Carruth

Scrambled eggs and whiskey 

in the false-dawn light. Chicago, 

a sweet town, bleak, God knows, 

but sweet. Sometimes. And 

weren’t we fine tonight? 

When Hank set up that limping 

treble roll behind me 

my horn just growled and I 

thought my heart would burst. 

And Brad M. pressing with the 

soft stick, and Joe-Anne 

singing low. Here we are now 

in the White Tower, leaning 

on one another, too tired 

to go home. But don’t say a word, 

don’t tell a soul, they wouldn’t 

understand, they couldn’t, never 

in a million years, how fine, 

how magnificent we were 

in that old club tonight.



Friday, April 3, 2015

Writing prompt was nothing.



Two Times Nothin’ Blues
                                    Walt Sample                                      

One and one makes two at least that what I thought
One and one makes two at least that what I thought
But Two times nothin’ nothin’ 
Baby that’s all we got

We used to go together just like hot sauce and eggs
We used to go together just like hot sauce and eggs
Now there ain’t enough spark left  
To light a powder keg

Our love grew old ‘cause you were always lookin’ for new
Our love grew old ‘cause you were always lookin’ for new
You can take back what you borrowed
But you can’t escape the blues

Don’t come a knockin’ when you end up crawlin’ the floor
Don’t come a knockin’ when you end up crawlin’ the floor
I changed all the locks
On my hearts door

One and one makes two at least that what I thought
One and one makes two at least that what I thought
But Two times nothin’ nothin’ 
Baby that’s all we got






Thursday, April 2, 2015

Writing prompt was chasing dreams.


I Was So Much Richer 
                    Walt Sample                        

I thought I was chasing my dreams but I was only collecting dollars 
Climbed the ladder to the top but I was chokin' under the white collar 
Couldn't breathe didn't feel alive life was just passing me by 
Felt like a scare crow stuffed with money I was hollow inside 

Oh I was so much richer when all I had was friends
Oh I was so much  richer when all I  had to spend
Was time with them

I had too much of everything but it still wasn't enough 
Red corvettes hundred foot yacht diamonds on my cuffs 
Bought low sold high like a glutton I wanted all the pie 
Then I found out there are some things money just can’t buy 

Oh I was so much richer when all I had was friends
Oh I was so much  richer when all I  had to spend
Was time with them

Wednesday, April 1, 2015



From a Country Overlooked
Tom Hennen

 There are no creatures you cannot love.
 A frog calling at God 
From the moon-filled ditch 
As you stand on the country road in the June night. 
The sound is enough to make the stars weep 
With happiness. 
In the morning the landscape green 
Is lifted off the ground by the scent of grass. 
The day is carried across its hours 
Without any effort by the shining insects 
That are living their secret lives. 
The space between the prairie horizons
 Makes us ache with its beauty. 
Cottonwood leaves click in an ancient tongue 
To the farthest cold dark in the universe. 
The cottonwood also talks to you 
Of breeze and speckled sunlight. 
You are at home in these 
great empty places 
along with red-wing blackbirds and sloughs.
 You are comfortable in this spot 
so full of grace and being 
that it sparkles like jewels 
spilled on water.



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