The majestic sound of jazz chords filled no better place than this floating head of mine
as they're composed of
many different notes:
A sharp, D flat, F sharp.
Every thought progresses to another
Prodigal words return to their father
like scales in a key that opens a door to the next:
I am D flat, Alicia Keys was A Minor, Stevie Wonder was The Key Of Life
Dead Poets serve their causes better than when alive, as
the music of antiquity sounds more lively when the composer is dead
in
the same way that Biko lives through fashion and printed t-shirts.
Harmony then returns when death brings life brings
joy brings pain brings
black brings white brings
yang and feminine brings
past and future
to love in the present
The poet in me must die before my thought can become deed.
Same as Che just like Biko shines on and I as like a child making jabber sounds and convinced that I make sense is the wonders.
ReplyDeleteBring joy bring misery
Aim high feel low
Heal and prosper
Dwell and let be found
Through darkness comes Light
Boy meet girl…lol
Balance as she be, as meant to be, as chosen to be