Tag Archive: Blues


All that Jazz

art from google



?



is it perchance

that moment


tattoed in my mind ?




our shared dance ?


a lifetime ago ?


in jazzy-smoked ol’ johannesburg town 



?


was it perchance

your smile


as gentle as the whispers of my perennial dream …


… your eyes


an ocean into whose smokey waters i yearn to drown


away from this

away from it all


far

far

away from this life


this daily

work-sleep-cage

of vacuumed lies


this

cavernous

prison


of leaden skies




breaking the shackles


casting off the burden


of carrying it all

of shouldering this world


your world


while

feeling at times


like your back is

closing in

against a blank wall.




2.




ah but enough of that talk


that talk of yesteryear



for now


i dream


i dream waking dreams


of that night

in whiskey-glazed

ol’ johannesburg town


of holding on

to that shared dance


is it that moment

that crystallised moment


is it

perchance



?



art from google

a legend has passed.

the father of rock ‘n’ roll is no more.

from the deep south of the KKK,

from the backwaters of Jim Crow,

Chuck Berry fused the songs of the oppressed, the blues, with his own genius, as he danced his duckwalk in well-trodden shoes. 


Chuck Berry may be no more, yet his name shall resound, his music shall live on, this much we can tell,


for Chuck made music just like ringin’ a bell …



Rest in Peace, Legend



for Chuck Berry (1926 – 2017)



​whistling blues … … …







she came to me one night,

the stars breathing light,


caressing away feeling,

as i lay kneeling,


soothed deep until numb,

speaking words rendered dumb,


her kisses grew,

rampaging through,


tearing at a thudding heart,

sliced agonisingly apart,


eyes dimmed, tears streaming,

clawing at walls, imprisoned by dreaming,


breaking free, shackles broken, bent,

consigned to the now, this ever present,


plastic shell,

this enduring hell?



yet, yet, hope persists,

hope resists,


for as another year flees,


hope blossoms,


in fresh leaves,


defiantly dancing,

on living, breathing trees.






Ramblin’ Bob Dylan Blues

Why does the sun dry up so many scattered tears
Slipping down the coarse cheek of a million hushed fears
Where no one is scalded though the searing fog clears
While prayers are mutely spoken even as the end nears

We shatter and scrape on demented knees
Blindly begging for mercy as it silently flees
Searching listlessly for salvation drowned in the breeze
That spits at the soft rose suffocated by a wheeze


I know now what I need never have known
Of hope that was trampled before it had flown
Into a wasted sky filled with hate that could drown
The giggling of the crowd and the crying of the clown


A hope so fragile its wings were of brittle glass
Ripping the veneer off the sewers of class
Twisting the fabric of the weighed and costed mass
Who numbly waited hoping that it too may pass


For when shards of that hope in all hearts scurries away
To a darkness where crowded night is emptied off the heaving tray
’Tis then when sewn eyes behold that doleful day
When all shall tear at each other while on demented knees we still pray


For a lifting of the veil of that wilful deceit
That’s wrapped up in a flag swollen with conceit
While the limbs splinter in the claw of a winner’s defeat
Yet still the drums roll for the ill-fated souls chose never to retreat


From that drenched battleground where blood flows through a sieve
And love’s lost song plaintively begs for a reprieve
From eternal loss which into raw emotion does cleave
Only to slip through the fingers and like grains of sand leave

talkin’ bobby dylan blues … … …

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'illusory art' by Maya

howling moons, broken teaspoons, cajole me back, to the track, the path i tread, sans fear sans dread, this death row shell, a barren cell, twisting and torn, of all humanity shorn, a living being, passing through this world unseeing, left in rags to rot at the curb of the road, where golden chariots roam and rode, gleaming heels, covet deal-wheedlin’ real deals, tossin’ a few spares in the outstretched cup, off on silken robes to fly, far from the dregs, the chattel, the me’s and you’s & i, high on up into the golden sky, paradise waits, stalks, preys, on this highway of hurt, and on many doleful by-ways … and still, yet, through it all, im stuck in his shell, this cell, and though this is written in joburg city, where i do dwell, if woody’d be here, he’d damn us all to fascist hell … … …

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Guthrie Ledbetter Seeger

well they ask me why I’m so sore,
they tell me racism ain’t a problem no mo’,

they tell me that,
they tell me this,

sayin’ it’s a new world,
they tell me to bask in a state of bliss,

but i ain’t cool,
i don’t buy the drool,

cos’ I’m talkin’ post-racial blues,
walk awhile in my ragged shoes,

wearing my happy face,
jus’ tryin’ to make it in this godawful rat race,

so don’t be tellin’ this,
quit tellin’ ’bout all that jazz,

cos’ I’m sick ‘n’ tired,
of the sterile razzmatazz,

cos’ I’m talkin’ post-racial blues,
fallin’ deeper as i ramble in my ragged shoes,

don’t be tellin’ me about the post-racial status-quo,
cos’ I’m sick ‘n’ tired of the whole damn show,

yeah, I’m talkin’ the post-racial blues … … …

I’m talkin’ self-indulgent blues,
ramblin’ and a-rolling along,
on cobblestones,
here and there along the alleyways of this life,

seeking not much,
as such,

a few scattered smiles,
after all the miles,
more open roads, less clogged strife,

caravan-serais of hope,
of peace,
where the din briefly does cease,

where simple ways,
of bygone days,

seem cooler than the respite of the shade,
as ages pale,

and as words fade,

I’m still a-walkin’ alone,
flotsam and jetsam blurring my eyes,

as sand gets kicked and the dust flies,
my heart thrashed against cold stone,

while the mirage persists,
the promise of free skies,

still,
just there,
within reach,

slipping further into myself,
as the floodgates breach,

so don’t worry about me no more,

I’m still a-ramblin’ and a-rolling,

and know this too,
for it be true,

it is you,
who remains,

after moulted skin falls,
when the closing walls,
squeeze my straightjacket,

threatening to seal my fate,
into a vacuum-shrunk packet,

no, don’t worry about me no more,
my head is upright,
though my soul may be sore,

but I’m still a-ramblin’ and a-rollin’,

with you,

immersed deep in my core,
forever more …

fool’s corner

tongues dripping language surreal,

rendering eyes, heavy-lidded, glazed,

skidding, incomprehensible,

into the yawning unreal,

scores of ears deafened by words,
deadened by sentences,

inured by scribbles,

that conceal,

love, loss, work, and the sycophantic drool,

intravenously pumped,
through highways,
byways,
              alleyways,
staggering,
beneath the glare of lights,
bright, cruel,

dismissed, despatched,
zealously grinning, winning, sinning,

relegated to the corner of the fool.

fingers.

entwined,
                 murmuring silent caresses,
                scribbling gibberish,

high above the cresting hopes,
            awash,
                        engulfed,
in the deluge,

of softly soaked-monsoon kisses,

adrift,
           free,
                   fingers, entwined,

teasing responses,
                           enmeshed, fused, between undulating waves,
            crashing,
                            within,
                                        our wordless universe,

in unison,
                 fingers entwined,
our oneness,
                      together, now,

presently,
                 present,

like ribbons and bows,
wrapped,

intermingling amidst shades,
                                   merging into hue,

breathing each other,
                                      in,

all of me,
                all of you.

when you kissed me

when you kissed me,
beneath our african skies,

fattened drops of nectar – heavenly rain,
like honeyed-corn,
fell upon us,
blurring our eyes,

drenching you,
and i,

together, momentarily,
and eternally,
perennially,
immeasurably,

though perhaps still,
’twas illusory,

a sliver of time,
razor-edged, real,

perched between:

passionate reason,

&

desirous rhyme.

on time: the big deal

another new years eve,
that time,

the big deal, the hype,
balloons,
               fireworks,
                                feasts,

the big deal, the razzmatazz,
getting sozzled,

new years eve ?

               

           is this the price,

the label,

                the tag,

        the bottom-line ?

moulting the skins, the shedding of the masks, the casting away, not off, of times’ collected detritus,

no.

that old shot in the arm,
the morale-boosting, fix-it in-a minute happy fuzzy fix,

fortifying the chattel,

           rebuilding the ramparts,

solidifying strategies,

defences,
                 in the trenches,

work,
          life,
                 &,
                    perhaps ‘love’ ?

no,
not that lie.

peddle it not to me.

not anymore.

image

😇:)

bidding another year adieu

and when i see,
breathe her, her softness a whisper away,

she knows the ache, i fear,
of wanting,
needing perhaps,
the feeling of feeling dear,

not much,
soothing warmth,
enveloped,

our warmth, a light autumn shawl,

her fingers, mine,
tracing sketches, scribbles,
our waltzing fingers entwined,

shedding this year that wasn’t, or hardly was at all,

like so, so many yesteryears,

now long passed,

quietly, threading catacombs crumbling into dust,

gently, reverently,
laying it down, leaving it all far, far behind,

a few shared moments,
of gentleness, warmth, solace,

of pure, innocent, delicious, alluring promise of bliss,

so rare,
            priceless, almost,
           
            almost,
            too rare to find … …

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image

times’ grating

           sandpaper
           in my eyes

without seeing much
         yet having seen:

you.

and you
              are
                    all i need to see … …

image

’tis been an eternity,
since i met you,

your eyes,
                 into whose deep
                 depths,
                 cascading within,

                 i would gladly
                 drown,

plummeting into,
all of you,

within you,
your thoughts,

your dreams,

your
waking
fantasies,

oh i would indeed,
if these were not mere scribbles,
                 empty, hollow,

bereft of hope,
entombed in sorrow … … …

🙂

image

on the futility of time …

on the futility of time …

                     one more chiselled notch
                           carved in my heart

          drawing blood
          raw wounds
          cauterised  

          just as

         another year
                                creeps
          slithers
                                 crawls
          into

          another year … … …

breathless

                 

              breathless

laboured
               tortured

each breath
                     swallowed

greedily gulping gasping

each breath
                    stolen
                               without you

… … … … … … …

there may be no answer,
from you,
from times’ tick-tocking rhymes,

and,
it matters not,

not anymore,

for,
i would truly be blind,

were i not to feel a lost sliver of a breath,

of hope,
elusive,
impossible,
alluring,
addictive …

so i bid you farewell, for now,

but,
who knows,

perhaps,

our paths may,

someplace, sometime,
seek each others’,

however difficult,
those paths may appear,

we may,
yet, still meet,

as sure as this approaching dawns’ hopeful light,

dispels the bleakness,

of yet another lonesome night … … … … … …

a new year beckoning …

a new year beckons, thusly a scribble on trodding onwards 🙂

we have been hurt,
battered by time,
by fate,

we have been stung,
by harsh tongues wagging,

words,
            words,
                        hollow,
  meaningless,
                         harsh tirades borne, colder words, mere words,
            spoken,

meant to jab,
                       prod,
ceaseless,
                 until spirits are torn,
                
                        broken …

   
   

… still,
           we endure,

    still,
           we hope,

for,
      we may be lashed.     against fates’ ropes,

    still,
           we endure,

we cling on,
                     to dreams,
                     shared hopes,

for,

we shall rise,
            
              staggering perhaps,

                but standing,
                never kneeling,

however painful,
                              or sorrowful,

times may be,
for we shall stand,

if,
   if,

we are together,
offering each other,

a warm, soothing hand … …

image

your strength
                          your resolve

your resilience
                          your warmth

real
       tangible
                       fiery

sparks
            afloat
                      in
                          the
                                 wind

                      unshackled
                     free

to soar
            boundless skies

    and i

          who have shared
                monents
                                 or two,

             lost
                    blinded

were it not for you

           gentleness sublime

shared

            in stolen moments

my unseeing gaze meeting

deep
         inviting eyes …

talkin’ gay abandon blues … …

image

they tell me I’m pretty,
fellas always telling me I’m cute too,

oh but they weren’t, aren’t,
nowhere as irresistible as you,

it ain’t the way you do your hair,

oh no it ain’t the way you dress,

and it sure ain’t cos’ you’re a smooth talkin’ fella,

oh no,
it ain’t cos’ of any of that and much more,

i got the blues for you,

staggering away from my liquor store,

so say its true, its eatin’ me up inside,

say it so there ain’t no place i can slip away and hide,

or say nothing at all,

that’s the ache of the blues,
ain’t never gonna know,

if life is gonna kick you down,
if you’re gonna stumble, and fall,

or if you’re gonna be as you have always been,

standin’ proud, tall,
stoic, but never just a wall … …

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