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Why the **** is there
all this disdain for varied techniques?

So what if I like altered guitar tunings?
Sorry that all my guitars
are in D Standard or drop C.
Yes, even the ******* Classical guitar.
I never meant to inconvenience you,
your Eminent Prestige!


Maybe it's a problem
on thy knavish behalf
that you can't cope
with variation within the
Sacred realm of Art.

Don't ******* tell me
what to do or how to do it.
Don't ******* tell me
my approach to my Art is wrong.

Don't ******* crawl to me
when you want to learn how it's done
and I won't say I ******* told you so
when you confess your perspective lacks variety.

I will still teach you, though,
that is, if you will listen.
I will still teach you, though,
if, indeed, I can.

I will still teach you, though,
but only if you can teach me, too.
I will still learn from you
despite your rigid adherence to traditionalism.

I will still learn from you
if you don't ******* condescend me
about how I decide to do it
about how it feels most natural
about what I like or why;

just ******* deal with it
like a true Artist;
accept it and bask in it,
that everyone's technique
is unique.

Besides,
be it not that very variation
that lends itself to the plethora of Art
that has been, could be, and will be made?

Be it not that very variation
that leads a school of thought
away from being so incestuous
that it kills itself off?

Be it not that very variation
which makes Democracy feasible?

If Art be neither
democratic or anarchic,
then I guess I'm no Artist.

Just ******* deal with it.
If you can't: then shut the **** up,
and let us, who can deal with it,
just ******* do it.
Sorry to be so profane,
I realize it limits my audience,
but I don't ******* care.

But, ultimately,
what is profanity
but whatsoever we decide?
 Apr 2014 BIGriel
MariaLoves
Maybe one day
I'll reflect back
on this Spring day
with a chuckle
or a smirk.

But not today.

For today you demanded
your freedom...

and sent me away.
 Apr 2014 BIGriel
Jazzelle Monae
It's such the contradiction
the way you make me feel
like the earth has drunk
the whiskey,
the sun's sober spill.
Tilted on my axis,
weaker in my knees
I don't exactly grasp
the spell you put on me.
You sedate me oh so smoothly,
like ***** in a glass,
My morning mug of coffee,
you keep me clear, fast.
like clockwork, your lips find mine,
and my heart is in your hand
sober and intoxicated
just like you had planned
© 2014 by Jazzelle Monae. All rights reserved.
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