Hustlin' Soul Jazz to the beat on the street/
Straight ahead Hank Mobley Art Blakey Seven Steps to the cool sounds of Harlem, diggin' deep into the subway, Harlem-148 St get off, take off/
whatcha say, bright moments, Man, bright moments the Pharoah Sanders way Milestones on the eight track Blue Mitchall's trumpet at the Sweet Basil, a jazz club in New York City's Greenwich Village/ a great place to play jazz and hang with no big pay day/
Wow, what a scene, Cecil McBee, Leroy Jenkins, Junior Mance, heavy heavy hitters of the jazz day/
So dig this, don't forget Wynton Kelly and his trio/
cool jazz covers and slick sleeves to get the record-buyin' hipster to hit on vinyl. Man, let me get you a bird's eye view, cause there ain't no cover charge to dig these words to view
High fidelity
reverberates well
truth of God's message
ringing yon eardrum
reaching depths of heart...
...toward freedom
soul's salvation
liberating
faith to spread news...
...echoing
love and grace*
joy of peace...
...clear for
all to...
...hear!
*Ephesians 2:8-9 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.
April 18, 2024
the image was distorted
because the canvas was contorted
and so to set things right
we entered staid silence, becoming the light
now with the vast void, having become our home
from a centreless fulcrum, resounded gong of Om
the that cosmic vibration, all pervading
an ocean of life, in which all souls are wading
subtler, gentler over time the sound became
ego vaporised, leaving no desires to tame
rapturous bliss cascaded in mind-body urn
wherein our soul presence chose to willingly burn
surfing the bardo, on choosing to let go
we imbibed direct wisdom, very few on earth know
and as music of the spheres plays by itself
flame of Christ consciousness glows as light of Self
Do you know my friend named Faith?
With trust in God, she treks through inconveniences,
stepping sprightly over them
with supreme optimism.
Smiling with ease, she saunters
along her life’s path, sure-stepping
for always she knows the way to go.
In the darkest of her days,
she still marches on;
a soldier of hope is she.
Some nights, she strolls,
face toward the heavens,
searching for the Star of David
so keen are her convictions.
To her friends and family,
she is an angel
ambling happily alongside them
and slowing down to lift them up
should they stumble and fall.
She loves her man
with the heart of a loyal lioness,
and he cannot help but reciprocate
her many kindnesses.
Do you know this woman?
Her faithfulness is to the sky,
for she’s got
high fidelity.
My Ex came up to fetch me
And drive me to the shop,
In his Ford Fiesta wreck,
Just ready for the chop.
He said, “I’ve got my stereo
Just fitted – Panasonic …
It’s great, it’s got four speakers!”
I said, “Oh! Quadraphonic!”
He looked a little puzzled …
“Oh! No!” he answered back,
“It’s got two speakers at the front,
And two more at the back … !”
This is a true story –
With my Ex, I don’t need to make ‘em up!
This oath I breathe into the night,
Where spectral voices wage and fight
For space to salvage, immunise
And subjugate before my eyes.
A song despatched with vocal chords,
Dipped in sorrow, ill affords
To waste a single key of sound,
To find the words not often found.
And thus in tears of honey dew
I turn the dial and think of you,
And know I will remain, prevail,
Hold fast my heart beyond the pale.
This muted plea of fire and ice,
It burns and chills, will not suffice;
This unremitting, ceaseless cry,
Fidelity tuned a perfect high.
This I must tell and you must know,
For when you leave me, when you go,
My world may stop and cease to be
'Till you return and stay with me.
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