blinkered by formal training
counting bright abacus beads of syllables
mindful not to step on cracks—
rhythm is everything
the audience c h e e r s !!!
the runner-up jeers—
maybe next time the nexus of …
the bows and brasses displayed
along with my bruises
an abacus of pearls
c.a.s.t
on
w a t e r
that drowns out the h-o-o-f-b-e-a-t-s of
a P O U N D I N G heart
a trace of desire
slated at the font
of knowledge
concurrent with my past
laurels
I bow to your discerning palate—
you clap for
REPETITION
repetition
r e p e t i t i o n
but I do not rest
unlike Keats
my NAME
is not
writ in
w a t e r …
it starts off sounding
complicated
one them ones
thats what you make it
sounds and mixes
tuned for a band
ah singer would say
you can't sing over this
we say
"yes you can'
Background singer
wiff the Creame ah: ooh ahh's
funky groove
bouncing bras
finger snapping
sounds delicous
phat beats
grooves nutreincous
rizpetto set in stanzas
in the video she's on cameras
Changed the lyrics we gotta
new duration
suppozza sing it
but he gonna say it
sound the brasses
sing sumthang like
re-ahh sha wah
the ooh ah-ooh ah on the grind me parts
ahh chi-cha dew wah
bassline licks
hot and stankin
sum strings to sooth the sound
and vocalists getting down
the kinda sound
to were the musics grooving
beats keeps all-ya'll movin
Crunk and full of soul
ya'll like those
ah-she wahs
goofin wiff dah ah-she ah's
riffs groovin on the Wonez
Riffs Grooving on
the Wonez
Neosoul and swing a melonic groove
is how she fashioned his music.
A term of endearment.
They styled the ollabartions
from words
one word supported
the other.
A circa when with the lyrics.
A rich bold bassey groove to some songs.
And a strict snap and turn dance ska for the lovers of dance..
when the whoomps and the strings intermingle
with the woodwinds and brasses.
People jump from there seats
and be shaking there a$ses type music. Inspiration from
the orcheastras eagerness to
show how great they are. Some people look
at inspiration from
not finding the right thing to say.
But these cats walk on hot tin roofs barefooted
knowing what to do.. Bluestone Funk!
Sweet romance with no broken heart type
movements.
grooving to the groove makes
love songs that much appealling. Smile at you defeat
knowing your time is coming. Wear that strap Champion and
shake your thang at your reseption.
Guitar
Violence
Chelo
Chello
Did we say
Cellos!
Ah ooh vhee
Tah; ah ooh
Vhee tah!
Brasses
The night
The saxophone
Call the women
Of need
Speak her yours
That she refuses
Your affections
To make myth of
You as we laugh
Evily,!
Standing on the mountain of Kilimanjaro,
Enduring hardship for centuries,
Forcefully uprooted from Savannah,
And crying for the moribund race.
Remembering the bootless slavery,
Discourteously displaced and separated from loved ones.
Instill in us, disdain and dishonor.
Many dreams crumbled,
Hmm! Dreams were traded like commodities,
Rights, trampled upon,
Lower classes, made labourers and creators of wealth for the upper classes and the Europeans.
Savannah, enslaved and then colonized,
Colonized, and then left devastated,
With dreams on the journey of no return.
Savannah! Savannah!
Brass are now fraudsters,
Embezzling without queries.
Forgetting their promises to the electorate.
Hmm! What a cruel Savannah.
Savannah's ancestors, watching in disgust,
And their laid efforts, sleeveless.
The ancestral land is dying.
The brasses forgetting the D day,
Where their wealth will be useless.
I wept furiously,
From today till tomorrow,
Savannah's misfortunes are unlimited to embark on.
Savannah, the great PARADISE for the GRENDEL.
Alimi Abdulkabir's Poetry
mi@us: listen to mi demo!
sing ye that sounds perfect
that this perfection
pitched in the perfect harmony of your voice
the brasses are polished
and the woodwinds dusted
the violins are restored
the metal strings had rusted
the flutes we're oiled
and tenor prepares to sing
he eats' in the diner
a meal fit for a King
the songs have been rehearsed
the musicians prepare to sound
people come from all over
people from miles around
they speak and mumble quietly
not to disrupt the mood
they wait the concerts starting
the conducter sets the mood
the soloist is joined
by the tenor and baritone
the chello's and the trumpet
mimics a grunter tone
the words are song softly
we sit and are amazed
the lights are dimmed
to create
the sight of a bluish haze
they soften to re appear as a pinkish lovely glaze
the tenor acts restricted
he's warned to behave
In 1961 it’s for a weekend away
On a grey winter Friday.
Out from London,
We drive north on
The A10 to the Wash.
Beyond Ely it’s flat and bleak.
It’s an impression we seek
Of a region we’ve not seen
Where at Christmas the Queen
Is at Sandringham near the Wash.
But all we see on either side
Are drainage canals and rushes that hide
Miles of flat fens, and more again,
Lashed by wind, swept by rain.
It is not attractive, the Wash.
Now the sun’s set
And it’s cold and wet.
So we seek and find an inn
Next’ the Ouse in King’s Lynn.
We’ll overnight near the Wash.
Inside the inn we sit and dine
Beside the hearth where the brasses shine.
Then we spend the night
Both warm and tight.
In the morn we leave the Wash.
To-night from a shelf I snap
Down the ‘one-inch’ map,
Numbered “124 King’s Lynn”.
It oozes warm memories of an inn
Where 45 years ago we were in love near the Wash.
This is the third time I’ve done it this year to be honest I feel a pride in being picked to do it but the very thought brings forward a tear.
Dress uniform ironed and ready, creases sharp as a knife brasses gleaming cap badge straight its time to commemorate not a death but a soldier’s life
The family, friends and fellow soldiers gather to honour a soldier who has died there has been much reflection and many have cried.
The flag draped coffin, headdress and medals carried by 6 fellow soldiers all in step with military precision, a lone warrior killed, because of a politicians decision.
The sharp crack of the rifles salute, the last post plays then the coffin is lowered into the ground to the bagpipes haunting sound
As I march off this is when eyes fill and lips starts to quiver a solemn promise in the eyes of all present that this warrior will be remembered forever