Pt. 1

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\Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash

(in roundabout 12 bars, a good man feeling down
is made a god by the sky that captures his heart,
rising like *Heru in a picture only as
perfect as the blues that created him.)

*Heru — also known as Horus, the Egyptian god of kingship and the sky

life is one long, still
somehow connected stanza
of the freest verse.

poetry be me
conceived at moment’s notice
of the universe…

me: the song of two
distinct drums beating in vibe
with day’s ecstasy

…& younger days seen dreams never…

Pt. 2 — a jam session for Ellington, Adderly, Ammons and Monk

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Photo by Samuel Regan-Asante on Unsplash

(On beams of lyrical sight i take inner flights
thru invisible music that illuminates
me-–-aware that sound brightens my reality.)

jazz is the mind & blues
is the body black & bold
with gospel in the soul.

blue skies boogaloo
across electric horizons
of naked cities.

strung out on the night
i am soul on fire caught up
in the web of dusk
drowned by nocturnal slowdown
reborn from morn’s ashen ground.

the jazz tears the night
into infinite fragments
that mesh with the air.

at twilight, night
comes in shining black armor
to save the day.

a day late…

A poem

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Photo by Paweł Czerwiński on Unsplash

As the black rose
Into the night’s deepest
Of midnight blue

With its looming
Show of lights, I

Wait in vain
Perchance to dance
On the sunny
Side of the street
At dawn, or

Recollect & reflect in retrospect:

Nights are but sermons
To be streamed
In this requiem
To a dream, with

Drawn from wondrous dust
On shadows of the moon
As past, present
And future ferment
Like grapes
In the crepuscule
Of a midnight crawl

By the revenant vox
Of *wordshippers to come

Through the static & the hum, out from Under…

Ode to a quote from Emily Dickinson

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Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

To the moment, like Emily,
Dwelling in (yet exposed by)
The possibility
Of irony

My thoughts with ideas
Of the poetical yet political
Dreamer that resides
Within me

As an astral traveler on the verge
Of becoming a vessel riding rhythms
Of the rails in a slow motion universe
Spiralling — even when things seem
To stand still — at the speed of life,
Or, at least until I'm out of steam

Filling the void with voices inside
Because "Everything is everything"
Even when the world seems to be
A symphony going in and out of tune


A poem

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Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

We lost
In the fire
Will find us
Through the ashes

By embers of memory
In the brilliant corners
Of our collective

Now, if only we could be free
As a country, if only we could escape

The cage of condescending
Conformity with its pre-flawed
Laws of a politically polluted
Melting pot and its post-racial
Confearacy, feeling the light

That guides us through our darkest days With faith in the fate of falling in love with the world…

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Picture courtesy of

A poem for Miles Davis

Pt. 3 — for the desire whose embers never expire

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Photo by Raychan on Unsplash

saw it in Playboy:
“do what u love…the rest comes.”
just didn’t say when.

baby, you are sweet
as a ripe sun picked on a
sunday afternoon.

you are a temple
of caverns to be explored
‘cause kisses don’t lie.

beautiful women
invade my mind, but none lovely
as the midnight sky.

afrodisia, you
sweet sticky thing. i love you
just because i do.

i who have nothing
have all unfurled in you, black
pearl, even the world.

we are erotic tides yearning & returning for salts…

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picture of Aretha Franklin courtesy of

For the queen of soul


#21stcenturygrio | with imagination as my 6th sense and soul as my quintessence, I am an alchemist of prosody |

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