A few days before that night when you called,,,, well I had a dream you pulled up in the old driveway and you were crying and we went in the RV and you were crying something happened you put your head on My chest crying,,,, and then a few days later it happened like the vision I had at the church only IT was,,,,so I listen to my dream's and my ears and vibes,,, so you see she is more than a special friend soul mates God bless her soul and I pray for her always her light shines bright and a shimering 😇 halo on her head I love her emensly ❤❤
Partner hope your day went well don't listen to negative B,S OKAY 👍 STAY STRONG,,,,, I'm a little tired tonight,,,, some times it's so quiet i swear I can hear the grass grow 😮
Lil Ed is on a short list of musicians who could teach The Master Class of the Blues 4.12 at Oxford or Harvard or the UN if there was such a thing. And for the guitar players out there, count how many different guitars Ed is photographed with in this video! Some are not so easily identifiable. Other than the Epiphone, and the Gibsons, what do you guitar fanatics see?
I'm always here for you home away from home we love you sweet hart have wonderful dreams a good night kiss goodnight 💋 sweetie and good morning have a blessed day all ways your friend,,,, blues man 😍🤠
Mixing tuxedo slide guitar boogies with raw boned Chicago suffixes and with the deepest slowburner, Lil'Ed and his blazing Imperials Blues - James "Pookie" Young, bassist; Mike Garrett, guitarist and drummer Kellly Littleton - show us a gloriously noisy and fun blues at once both emotional and exciting. Since the rise of Hound Dog Taylor & The HouseRockers no other band has made such a consistently cheerful noise. Currently, they celebrate 24 passionate years together, Lil'Ed & The Blues Imperials exert their musical talents with skills that touch perfection.
Time for the pillow people good night. I love you sugar night kiss 💋 good morning kiss 💋 and have a wonderful blessed day remember my spirit is with you 24/7. Always 🤠😇💕
Hi bro, I just came from a short stay in Geneva where my son did a wonderful performance as a counter tenor solist singer in Baroque Music. Back here in South Spain, i was feeling a bit low , missing my son and Geneva. So I decided to chear me up listening to your downloads of Blues Music. It did work indeed,as it always does. I really love and share your taste in that matter. Then, I was thinking how wonderful Music is. No matter if it is classical or blues, you can love them all.There are no borders at all. You only have to let you go and feel as an human being. We should learn to apply this humble feeling in everything we do, as a society. Probably the wordl would be then, a better place for all of us. Thank you again Dimitry, for this interest you take in sharing nice things with people.
Oh dang! So awesome my brother, I am blown away. Love Lil' Ed, every blue drop of axe and voice; I must thank you to the maximum. I have been in travels, to see the House of Delirium in Bristol, UK; then to effect economic reform in Ghana, Africa... yet did 2 recitals, one at a friend's tavern, another for the helluva fit in the Golden Tulip, a private party- just happens. I met the Chiefs who own all land, the Ashanti, as my Anasazi, they who would not be conquered or colonialized, many hands break the chains, so many hands pull the ropes, bring up the nets, and the bounty of the seas. Trippy with my son there, said I was too fierce for the evil bankers, for charging 30% to my friends, indigenous..... so that was my last 2 weeks, all hotels, palaces and jungles, Accra, a place of much commotion and culture, fully determined to overcome its challenges and many who would see me below the daisies, yet no. The garden can feed on others in my stead. What can I share here, if not my most valued, is surely my most possessed, a point of view I do not fully agree with (myself). Yet for my peace of mind... Lil' Ed and Pookie rule, and as the earliest of blues or Qwaali music, I am controversial, haha, they tell me constantly, "be very careful" yet in 10 minutes, I end up taking photos with the Chiefs, such strong smart souls... we are fated to know, so forgive this title, as it was written in 20 minutes to when the system failed and Steel Pulse was late, customs for the Dreadlocks, natty and gnarly, it was medievel, primal, surreal, and one drop from a boil, thus... and this one, dedicated to my friend and brother, Dimitris Koutsiaftis..... even while I jam, home here at early light ~~~*^J^*~~~ yes, I am... RaVen DaWn, hhaaha, and maybe misbehavin', just a bit! THE LAST SUPPER Part 1. Plungers and Prayers The mightiest misdirected martyrs of change are plagued by an innate insanity that reveals them -hungry horny naked old men in brand-name new bodies drugging themselves from social stipulations in angry comedowns of dusk driving their dongs deep into devil-hipped head hunters blessed between ancient angels forked thighs symphonies swelling inside daughters delicious on primrose paths who bloom in passion during the motors of darkness while pillaged and vintage empty-eyed stoned saviors climb out of cocaine cocoons and hover beyond penthouses and beneath piers secretly planning musical vengeance where nude radicals streak through heaven burning down Las Vegas torch and scorch because the desert holds more hope for cynical saints who stagger across city streets bored and bombed embroidered and embalmed where pissed off pedestrians kick down push button doors of public school systems with revelation and revolution turn stones over and invade dark and abandoned holes sterile sensualists riding rebellious centaurs spewing out dark mirages of the animal streets and you want peace -drop dead for us for mad clowns who were kicked for cosmic kings who were shot or stoned nailed to the cross or buried in tenement tombs where their very clothes were robbed from their graves -and they came back bitching and bawling reborn and resurrected they were kicked out of liberal lungs and social standings for writing obscene graffiti in absurd mirrors of the mind retreating finally to bare rooms in unpainted pagodas peeling the scaly skin from flesh flowers flushing their diplomas down the drain and waiting for the Judgment to leave the church to exit the stained glass upper crass cage of warship with their plungers and their prayers listening to the plumbing stop up. PART 2. MURDEROUS MAIN COURSE MISDEMEANOR They get arrested in their toga wraps for loitering in subways of the skull. They eat cockroaches content To nibble specs on the ceiling, Yay, once our bill of rights! They are captured and contained in straight-jackets and shock therapy. They are disowned and file bankruptcy on knuckled heads in Central Park. They riot in Neverland , New Jersey and become d’oerves for the morning edition or they are served as cocktails on the rocks in secretive military staff meetings… PART 3. Deathly Desert Death after death after death. Death from jagged dreams. Death from dreamy drugs or dangerous delirium rigamortis penis erectus skyscrapers cumming cloud dripping doom bleeding down buildings borrowed on lease from lord satan himself. Death shuffling down 42nd Street in a strut Past mannequins standing motionless, Mental minefields of murder and mime mime mime as if this wind- blown world was on lean and stopped to let death pass by another needless night numbing a life a love a lust not wanted lost or wasted in mescaline monasteries worshipping messiah mercenaries from their carefree cemetery solitudes, frugal and frowning in their big big cars drunken and drowning in their own sick wars cruising through red lights and street fights and late night walks long faced looking for businessmen born in suitcases and rat races -to confront the quick and the dead alike to set them free from a life lost to quotas and voters’ pork distant dreams and grinning machines and systems with lysergic spiked water coolers social sexretaries and wandering wives bored on prescription passion gone to gigolos tonic and gin and valium validated moods dated lives and deaths dated and filed before the beginning of the end the wax end the zoo of tombstones and teenagers bawling, roasted rare and burnt in rage… on their fathers’ graves fucking fire-breathing fanatics so far gone on subterranean suicide that they are nymphatic dramatic in the tired -eyed evening listening to the drums of death on the atomic radio watching wearily waiting to rumble and stagger and stumble in stoned stupors through orgasmic zombie drex--------------- ----------drugs and sex and back door brainwashing Until catatonic eyeballs j-j-jitter with defeat and the system sucks them into the incinerator.
Haha., long as we're having fun; love you too bro... and I have been slowly getting my son (Harley) and some friends to open up to blues by attention to your posts and channel. Your taste rocks and shows that music has no bounds, no labels that apply, it is your choices I know you through, and brother... I am always there for you. Gotta lotta world to change and I wake up, grab my blades and come to surface, it is world out there still and my woods are gone, no more gators to kill, skin, eat, wear... tough as shoe leather. Then again in this world of blues and short fuses, we all remember when and even that is a world away, keep the heart wrapped in gator hide, the spirits tough, in rhino skin, haha, and when they say "you're out!" then we know we're in. Hah! I really am so honored all joking aside, you move me -especially, ok bro I always say "can't get enough until we get s'mo" even on the road, I have you prominent in my playlists, so your jams have given me psych in some places, under the race, below the being, aw hell, just the worst, and still I find, beauty where others only see the ruins, uh- an vice versa!!! I think you have amazing taste... and drive alive! "Glass Globe Dreams" Sunrise bleeds the day to come. Glass clouds shatter and rain Shards of broken dreams We live within. I wake up, sinew and sweat All through my clothes. Ragged horse about to fall, Take me ten more miles; Dustball town. Seen my tombstone The ground torn apart to plant This garden grave of nameless drifters. Wasted boots upon the sunny hill. Killers love. Lovers kill. Nobody admits the obvious. I climb up, ride the gray mare Long since breath has left her, To the edges where desert was beach To the misty ocean, now vapor and steam. Glass globe dreams. Life inside Cold liquid mercury sky. Heavy metal jacket Shrapnel sheets of rain Storm swirls irate Against the iron cities, Dark daily the winds scowl, Titanium trees sway -new metallic reality. We still have some postcards. Yet the world they show is gone. We destroyed the original Now live inside this new one, Glass globe dreams. ~snow mo’; snow s’mo!~ By RaVen DaWn Otherwise. I layer these down, and laugh. Some like, others can be truly hostile, and yet, one key and we can pass or choose. I call it my "Fuck (FOC)" Freedom of Choice. So we should all of us get FOCed, haha, and stop that train or jump off, enjoy the ride... we ride at dawn I told my son, haha, he says, funny. Savvy that. Jokers' wild!
I have been amazed by Peru, lately a player in fair ways, the strength of Luciana Leon (just 31 and Paliamentary!), the savvy of Mecedes Araoz... it is historic, Finance Minister, not about the parties or politics, I just like it to level every angle and all odds, to beat... that and let us be honest, these ladies are powerhouse engines of positive reforms and very very lovely if I may say so. My best to you Wizha, and my best to Peru! Se encuentra mi corazon... in the balance. Be well....
Now I'm going tell you something you and everyone needs to hear we have in the next,3or,4 month theres going to be a lot of havoc all different kinds going to be very bad,, sorry it's a vision
Just tell everyone you have an old man and he's YOUR'S,, see what happens 😮 OH,,,, I'm getting a calex or something on my thumb or blister from guitar,,,,,, have to give thumb a rest,,,,,,,,, give me call just say Mister Gary watch ya doen,,,,,, and I say is realy you,,,,,,i want to tell you i love you face to face cheek to cheek🥰
Lil' Ed is such a great singer and guitar player, just like his late uncle JB Hutto. I just wish he wouldn't wear those dumb hats, makes him look like a chef.
