Grazin’ in the grass was mellow indeed
when you blew into your trumpet
blaring sounds of peace. What a trip!
Just watchin' as the world goes past,

you used to say playing notes of jazz.
Music of resistance for a tortured land
imbued in the blood of its natives bashed,
by the impudent high-handed little white man.

As your grandmother cared for you and miners
in illegal bars, piano keys enticed dreams of hope
for second class citizens silenced by oppression,
while the chaplain gave you your first instrument.

Little did you know the melodies you’d pour
on the rampant fires of blatant injustice.
Little did you know the strength you would instil
embodying possibilities, shedding light on the obscure.

Soweto blues you composed as Miriam gave
her voice to screaming mothers to cry out,
atrocities in town. Bring Him Back Home
you sang from afar until they did, and you

returned to see the prisoner walk free,
down the streets hand in hand with Winnie.
Only afterwards I heard your words and will
to show the people just how

wonderful and excellent they are.
A message I cherish and the reason why
many will remember you, your tune your smile,
as he who kept the torch of freedom alive.

A baobab tree has fallen indeed.

He skulks around late at night, all hollow
innocence to swallow, beast within burns
his fire - demonic Dorian Gray, an infinity
of void, reflecting  through mirrors of lead

The blood is the lifeforce of the words, it flows
it's the rhythm that keeps on flowing, crimson --

Lifeforce within, flowing, like rivers in some
******* babylon, baby, pregnancy of the earth boom boom
vampire bite, what a fright, burned eyes boo boo --
trapped in this zoo, man - caged beast, man.

Every man is a caged beast, controlled and
*******, flawed creature, bashing head against the bars
and poets? They are the most flawed of all, dreaming of
escape, no hope, scraping the claws against the wall.

Red crimson lifeforce flows, big bang bachelors
drinking in noir nights, feeling the fright of the
big girls against the ceilings, their dreaming lips
which siren lust and ***, screaming in the night
siren. Bountiful ****, *******.

Sirens of ***, burning in the night, hemp smoking in
the corner, drink more, smoke more, **** more, feel more -
red - red -  red - red
blood / blood / blood

Give it in, keep it burning in your veins, through the heart
that brain, it needs something to keep on ticking
like the grandfather clock, tick tock tick tock
feed your ****, red crimson moon, find a girl
treat her right, be tight with the devine
that feline moma won't wait around forever

so don't expect her too, just treat her right
be tight, and hold her in the night, out of sight
nebula dreams with your love, sozzled right.
Wasted and burnt by your eyes.

Seal her red within with your tears of divinity
and bleed for her too when you need to.

Red, like the colour of a rose,
or at least the bleeding of a moon.
Bada bing, bada boosh.

So this is me...
Drinking tea, writing , listening to Jazz.

The voices the voices,

Inspire,
Entrance,

*** o bee, boop, shuu boop.
The skill, the dance.

You should turn some on,
Give it a chance.

..... And all that Jazz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I been born to lack.
Self inflicting heart attack.
I been born to mourn my death.

I'm a plague dressed in disguise
A brooder of everything in sight.
I been born to mourn my death.

Don't bother to please.
You'll find I need no sympathy
I'm a swamp that takes body heat.

When you're in my morass trap,
You'll find anxiety tracks.
It's a disheartening,
Meglo-mockery.
Oh, Mephisto please.
Why do I do this to you my marsh queen?

Oh, I don't take, I steal.
Hearts, time and self esteem are a good meal.
Don't have any aches for me
I was born to mourn my death.

I must seem like a mystery
With dirt prints I leave behind every scene.
Taking you deep into a quagmire of negativity.

I been born to lack.
It's not my fault you got trapped.
But you were warned before,
I was born to mourn my death.

Right Downtown where
buildings scrape blue skies
and leaves share
their space on the cement,

A vagrant just on the end of 10th
dances wildly capturing high-class sentiments
he throws wide arcs of brown shrouds
and falls with practiced elegance,

the city waltz between trees,
the jazz swing stepped proud,
in harmony with the breeze
your lolling head beats

out an ancient melody.
You belong to the streets.
You creak at the knee.
You smile right at me.

Between the glass pane
you see mine and wink,
you are perfectly framed—
I never do look away.

If you weren’t all
that I am not
so free
would I have seen

the officer turn the street
his rigid blue uniform taut
like his skin and hard
like his eyes?

Officer! I wish I could’ve
screamed, would you
had heard me? Turned a cheek?
Street dancer, city slicker,

You were everything—
****, the way he tapped his feet
floating high, mesmerized,
stunned, I just watched

sitting in a leather chair
hair dye dripping blood red,
his cracked lips flare
a smile turned cross

he falls onto the cement
he goes home colored red
he fills the cracks
he is dead.