A poem of three haikus — I remember his Hands, a palm reader’s garden With roots tracing back To the beginning Of the heavens and Earth, grown Deep as Atlantis As though he’d been here Before, planting seeds of our Divine DNA. You might also like: Freedom Road In pursuit of the thirteenth note and the twenty-seventh manmedium.com 2021 Michael Hall is a creative, who is the creator…

And the ethos of improvisation — "...Young and old as a whole Those who know jazz is prose And how it goes and is going to be Me, us, we, free..." — The Last Poets, "Jazzoetry" They Said jazz — Like Stardust — Had more than Enough Magic to meld Every soul. Jazz — basically crownless…

In progress — In the sun when the shadows run For cover and clouds become One with the horizon, I’m Reminded that it is us Who are compliment blessings Left after the storm, this side Of love reborn, transcending The place that once held us. It would be bliss if all I Had to do…

In pursuit of the thirteenth note and the twenty-seventh man — Down The road Of Many Signs, freedom Is a Dialect Of destiny Of spirits Known and unknown Meeting the beating Drums of our past — Opening the gate To another new day Of life in the folds — Dancing with ancestors Conversing with the elders As we brave the spectrum Of an ever-changing staff In pursuit of the thirteenth note And the twenty-seventh man Who signifies the…

From Michaels Wife Hello ALL…. I just wanted to say a big thank you!!! For all the kind words during Michaels passing in December 2021. He is truly missed every day!! If you ever want to contact me my email address is skhall2915@gmail.com Be blessed!!! Stepheni Hall

A portrait of my mother painted in my words — You might also like: I Wandered Lonely as the Sun After Wordsworth and Dali and Linton Kwesi Johnsonmedium.com Thank you for reading. Michael Hall is a creative, who is the creator and curator of The Bazaar of the Bizarre, married and living in Illinois. He forges poetry on the wordwright’s anvil but also soul travels — by any dreams necessary — like a ship…

Music of My Mind — Time Out Of mind Entwines all The poems in my bones In a montage, like nomads of Nomenclature marauding midnight silence with beats As blueprints in pursuit of the quintessence Caught in the foreshadows of the imminent presence In between Extremes Of Kaleidoscopic distortion — Where the hawk flies high As…

After Wordsworth and Dali and Linton Kwesi Johnson — When the golden rays of sun ballet upon the stained glass sky — empty — blue in all directions, with nothing of Wordsworth to see, not a vapor trail nor dark cloud of uncertainty — it is the sunshine that breathes over the stillness within, keeping me alive until the end…

For Pharoah Sanders, Chick Corea & John McLaughlin — Just as we live We die & heart’s a melody In this score of life Shooting up The veins of time With sapphire bullets of love & hope Astral traveling To the hymn of the 7th Echelon…& beyond — To where Death is a waterfall Of downbeats Baptized In the rhythm…