Hobo Jungle

[MartyE]

My wife bought that book...I forget how much but here at the airport it's 20% off. I'm sure thats somewhat less than my wife paid. Careful Jon that you're not trampled. Those Potter fans are vicious.

[2railjon]

It's good to see kids reading.

Tramp, Good news- The Red Bull Moto GP will on Fox tomorrow afternoon.

[AG]

4 in on me!!!!!
2 Hammerhead red (recommended) Hop's restaurant and brewery
2 red bridge!!!
Is raining here, and I'm watching for my favorite window how is raining over the grass.......
Andre.

[AG]

Jon, I'm still painting windows.

this sentence remind me "the little prices" when he meet the lamplighter.
Andre.
here is the link:
http://home.pacific.net.hk/~rebylee/text/prince/14.html
A.

[Tramp]

Jon, this is going to be a killer race. The young gladiators have the front row.

Stoner Pedrosa Vermeulen


Then the older guard:


Hayden Rossi Capirossi



Andre, Here's a rain poem for you.


POETS

At least once you should stand
Under a lit bar neon weeping rain
(This is best after a long drought)
And let that rain—chromatically radiated—
Run down along your upturned face.
Most people don't think of this.
There to stand moored in a storm,
This passage between life and death,
My body so close to the sill,
As close as a gun to the temple.

Listen,
Doesn't it all come down to this?
Listen, as the rain runs across my face,
Along my broken nose, over a poor shave,
Listen,
For a poet reaching out does make a sound.
Sure it's silent—a silence only for you to rend.
Silence is a sound, like the poem left unwritten.
(The ring of all the poems that never get heard.)
But we are all wrong anyway,
Because we can't be Jesus.
(Don't we hope to compare ourselves to Jesus
At least once?)

And when I pass through the portal,
Out in from the neon bright rain,
My wet foot prints on the tile,
And I take my stool with the lads,
Baudelaire, Bukowski, Rimbaud, Rihaku,
They are all sitting quietly drinking,
All trying to look their worst, of course,
Dylan Thomas, Keats, and the unknowns,
They have nowhere to be any longer.
All the good and the bad poets
They are finally drinking together,
The door jamb bare of a door,
Always letting in a little rain.
Do you know what I say to them?
As my stool creaks and my arms touch wood,
As the wound at my temple no longer weeps,
As the lads barely look up from their drinks,

I say,
Some poems take you like a rain.
And then I order.

[AG]

Nice Tramp!
thanks a lot, I like to watch the rain...make me think, is like floating with my self into my brain.
The poem is incredible, and Bukowsky too....y read "the Pulp" amazing atmosphere...........still raining in FLA...... the house is quiet now.....just me and the rain........................
A.

[Daisy]

Once when I was in most lovely Peru, walking a path up a mountain, a light rain started to fall, and a beautiful old native Peruvian came trotting down the path past me carrying a big bundle of some plant on his shoulders, and he said as he trotted by, "Sagra la lluvia", and just kept trotting by. So lovely. "Sacred the rain". I always think of it when the drops first start to fall.

"is like floating with my self into my brain." andre, you're the nuts!

[AG]

Once when I was in most lovely Peru, walking a path up a mountain, a light rain started to fall, and a beautiful old native Peruvian came trotting down the path past me carrying a big bundle of some plant on his shoulders, and he said as he trotted by, "Sagra la lluvia", and just kept trotting by. So lovely. "Sacred the rain". I always think of it when the drops first start to fall.

"is like floating with my self into my brain." andre, you're the nuts!

that's true........
A.

[rogruth]

Tramp,Daisy,Andre. Beautiful thoughts. Even though I play tuba I consider myself a musician.Some would say a tuba player couldn't be a musician.But.The above was like music to me. I was,and still am part time,a band director.I always tried to get the music performance to to convey my thoughts and feelings to the audience.Something I could do with sound but not do very well with writing or conversation.

[2railjon]

Great poetry, Tramp. I'll get the next round.

thanks for the GP update!!

[Tramp]

Roger, it's always a pleasure when you're in the Jungle. D plays the flute. She'll probably get miffed at me for saying it, but she was in the LA symphony for two years. She has a wood flute now, which has a lovely soft dark sound, and whenever it rains, she improvises and the sound floats through the house. Nice to hear.

[rogruth]

That is quite different from tuba improv.Much more enjoyable.

I don't think most of us realize how talented and artistic the hobos on this forum and in the jungle are.Many varied talents have been exhibited here.

I babble.Taught middle and high school band for 43 years full time and 6 part time.Still work with kids.I did what was needed to get through to them and tend to continue in that manner.

[ANG retired]

ANG............where the hell is Stoystown Lions Club's Tractor show at...........................

hev

Duh! Stoystown!

Go west on 30 (Lincoln Highway) through Gettysburg, Chambersburg, McConnelsburg, Breezewood, Everett, Bedford, Schellsburg, (seeing a trend here?) the Booming Metroplex of Reel's Corners, (almost there!) and, after passing the road to the Flight 93 memorial, go another 2 miles to the bottom of the hill past Stoystown Auto Wreckers. Turn left, and it's at the Lion's Park!
Nice little show, pulls, both Deadweight and Western, a tractor ride around the Quemahoning Dam, a dedication of the replica B&O Stoystown station (beautiful job BTW) great food, and, (drum roll please) the Nearly World Famous Sanford Emporium! (most junque as reasonable prices)

[ANG retired]

I freaking LOVE THAT!!!!!

Hell, I might just Re-Up ifin I could light up that summbich!

[The Dirt]

Those groundhogs better bring their best game. I'm ready.

Barkeep, shot-and-a-beer for Roger.
To friendship, bro!