Prince & Kings (2006)

Oh how it is quite strange, clowns and princes

along with me, share hits and misses

And how we work, eternities to construct

One man always stood beside me

So here is some spoken word poetry

About my Duck

All these stepping stones, its such a big climb

I gotta just put my nose to the grind

why yes my mass was shapeless, but definitely not aimless a hand full of aces, as my box of tools simply out rules those with mere jacks.

A capering clown

in sawdust mounds

I would never be allowed

and that’s a fact

lessons learned on ones own, yet taught by others

And I discovered

the blood that doesn’t connect us brings us closer to one another

no relation which cause the creation by which leaves me fulfilled

Last name: Banks. First Name: Bill

The reason I know skill doesn’t breed passion, passion breeds skill

Now, Though outrageous,

I must say that only the mans good values were contagious

and although the man ages,

the books cover changes,

not the pages

On the topic of books, lets take a look

a copy manipulate with traits

of stone written rules

That William had the jewels

to chip loose

I call him Duck

But these actions wont get him confused for a goose

A book of rules in which every one is to receive, Billy Banks believed that mine needs to interweave his own recipe

The reason I keep tricks outside of my sleeves

the reason i wasn’t deceived by the ease of being naïve

The reason my metaphors are as deep as seas

He is the reason I dare to believe that I am the sea and life is a simple little fish swimming inside of me which I can control just not directly

its always with me but can be caught up on hooks, tangled up in seaweed

so when is pleads, I attend to its needs

with guarantees of bachelor degrees

and although it will not come with ease the sea calms the storms breeze, clean its debris and fathom that hard work is to be worked hard but always is always done correctly

I change the tide so the fish swims not always straight but always with strides.

When the stones hurt the feet to be a climber

Duck is always there with a reminder

Though its deep, I reap

The benefits of being gifted everyday by the array of knowledge portrayed

In the celebration of the man on his birthday

III

So like Obama

I wanna

Make you believe “Yes I Can”

No man, No object, No figure, No wall

Stand in my way from achieving it all

And Believe is my suggestion

Cause the guaranteed truth is good to invest in

All this?

I give credit to the book Duck did edit

So let it

Be known that I stand a grown *** man,

And with these hands let me reach from my soul and pull

within me the key That unlocks the box of tools that help create eternity

and trust me

I was equipped properly

A level to keep my head on straight

A bucket, to help evenly displace life’s weight

A set of blank keys to open any of life’s gates

A chisel and a hammer, my own identity to create

A ladder to climb from the holes I dig myself into

And shovel to fill and forget no regrets and its all just bliss

Like a pig tattoo that never did exist

And finally a broken compass

Not to make me fail, but to force me to blaze my own trail

So when the stones get high and I need a break from the climb

Duck makes sure I know there is always time

So I swear and you know it

And if you don’t he would love to show it

One simple push, poke or a shove

And he will have you believing he is busting out the golden gloves

Doesn’t that sound like the man we all love

The lesson taught?

backing down

means your not at the top

Forcing over stepping stones so quickly on this climb

Duck made me know to do my damage in my prime

So at seventy five,

you are still alive

And to nobody here is it a surprise

Another story of the scar

Another cigar

To smoke

Your too up to date to even be called old folk

So at seventy five

you are still alive,

and to me it sure isn’t a surprise.

And Duck I want you to know to me you will never die.

and let it be known, I refuse to use your present tools as my stepping stone

As everybody’s life path must be created on their own.

So as I refuse to use your present tools as my stepping-stone

The man that I named Duck taught me to reach the tops thrown

And I will never ever quit climbing….

A tribute to my Grandfather Duck on his 75th Birthday. A spoken word remix of a poem he taught me, that has been the motto to my life - R.I.P Bill "Duck" Banks

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