How degenerate
Is best for the powers that be?
Flora$$$ghostw12
 7900
|
|||||||||||||||||||||
you need to login or register to leave a comment
Views: 155
You must be registered to leave a comment. Registration is FREE.
COMMENTS
No comments. Be the first to enter a comment.
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Flora$$$ghostw12
JUST ABOVE BUT SLIGHTLY LOWER THAN DEMHow degenerate Is best for the powers that be?  |
HUMBLE ELIJAHELIJAH has curly black hair ELIJAH has curly black hair When Satan suggested he could be a rider ELIJAH chose not to go there |
Jazz Waltz
Thrown upon the tide of modernity: An audience is about to witness A new jazz form: 'Hard Bop' raises some eyebrows amongst the old cats who are still on the scene. "Dis 'ere..." Cannonball announces, E flat sax of his all lit up In a smoke-filled club, "... is a jazz waltz." Brother Nat' s horn Plays a foreign fanfare, Proclaiming the second coming, Like a thousand tongues of Energetic Pentecostals. This here's a whole congregation, Of foot-tapping listeners who, In the Spirit, At once Are slain. Timmons plays Gospel harmonies Leads the crowd to Galilee As we pray for a life in 3/4. 3 counts; no rests. Jazz. Period. No clever etiquette No corny grace notes No artificial trills Nor clinical chord progressions Straight jackets are for slave-owners Hear this waltz Of American struggle And you'll be reborn You'll 'fil' the soil 'n Learn to till Landing deep in cotton fields A primeval urge to reinvent Set our ancestors Like driven jazz drumm... |
MirrorsThere are Myriaf mirrors But this crowd WON'T NEVER SEE ME |
Madonna the YarnwinderYou crucifix of domesticity, You heavy cross of peasant thread, Sibyl of pain, snatched from my working hands, By a playful babe, Laughing as an innocent, Crying through a chuckle Stroking his fate.
|