“Let’s not dwell
On the semantics of life’s
Syntax, or any
Of its distortion to static,”
Said the record to the phonograph;
“Life has surface noise,”
Said the needle buried
In the groove
Of the record, “end of story.”
Blues & the Absolute Truth
“…Must
Be
Me that’s
Rushing by, ”
Time just clings, singing
Lost chords of the absolute truth.
Meanings linger like mother’s milk does to a baby
(For
The
Sake of
Survival).
I
Am
The blues.
The world knows,
Because they can see
Their own reflection in me, from
The womb to the tomb, roots to the fruits, though strange to all
But
We,
Rooted
In word of mouth, sprouting aloud
As if these walls could talk
& these blues could walk
Us where the soul
Never dies
& lead
Us
Back
Down
To Earth
(for right now)
Journaled in journey
Because every step’s a vessel
Of freedom…& human feeling, beyond all else.
(Quote excerpted from Paul Weller’s “Above The Clouds”)
Ancestors
When the ancestors
Dance, I can hear Africa
In beats of my heart.
I Love the Art of Frank Morrison
if only coltrane could’ve conjured the Sunset
Legacy (this is us)
This sea of souls deep
With dreams despite the darkness
Will be the beacon…
for
We
Drink up
The beauty
With trust in the translation
To be the epitome of our inspiration;
We
Are
Mortal
But our verse
Is left to live on
RandomiX #8: “Dream Yourself a Dream Come True…” (& call it the story of You)
Beckoning Chaos
Footsteps of the Cosmos
RandomiX #7
