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
Survivors names have been revealed..As a warning malignant, designed to steal..The
Exposure away from the guilty, in sensitive
Positions, cloak and dagger moves we see
Aplenty..Its getting to hot ( for the agents they own ) so a hit on the plaintifs.' Is how its going.' Aim at soft targets.' Now where before, was that done.? Why the very files
of epstien, exibit numbet one.' Threats and
Blackmail all espionage, quite standard stuff..Yet the clamour must strengthen, now is the time to sift the dust.' They are panic stricken, keep up the push.' Flush the
Carrion vultures from each hidden tree or bush? The avalanche is moving really gathering speed, tearing up the hides' sweeping all features clean, call out for disclosure of the hidden evil ones.' Whatever position they hold; under this
Earths sun.'
Every year I pinch-hit on Christmas
for a Christian so devout
That if he had to work on the holiday
he’d just sit and pout
This year was no different from the rest
except he made a slight change
This Christian also became a full-fledged Jew
~ So, I had to cover for him on Chanukah too
A taunt rope and a forlorn gaze, fixed line,
Where sans the air meets a familiar hold.
Each balanced saga, hit on the divine,
A story in the making, brave and bold.
The climber's hands upon the sheer rock face,
Forgiveness breeds trust in the fingertips,
Adrenaline's sharp fire, a hurried pace
A moment's breath away from slippage, dip.
A surfer riding on the curling crest,
As raucous waves crash close after the board.
Life's fleeting, thrilling, ultimate true test,
Upon the ocean's mighty, potent chord.
The final brushstroke on the canvas's bright,
Before the edge of what the image holds.
Living in risk, embracing the soft light,
Where every breath the soul's deep truth unfolds.
My past
My mistakes
The right and wrong choices
My failures and successes
My hopes and dreams
The man looking at me in the mirror
The man you see with your eyes
All my physical homeliness and imperfections
All the words said behind my back
The good and the bad
The rumors and the gossip
The facts and the fiction
The lies and the truth
That’s not me, and that’s not who I want to be…
I’m the sad music that makes me feel there is love to gain through the pain.
I’m the cheek you can hit on one side and then again on the other.
I’m the walking mat you can clean your feet on.
I’m the laughter that comes easy and is given freely.
I’m the friend to the not-so-friendly.
I’m the heart you can wear on your sleeve for you to break over and over again.
I’m the life that matters less so yours can matter more.
© 2025 by DC Poetry
A Jaw biopsy was done to determine the issue,
The Doctors first response “looks like scar tissue”.
His next question was, “have you ever been hit on the Jaw”?
In an attempt to be funny my response brought no hurrah,
“Yes, I have on a few occasions, hit a fist with my face”,
when endeavoring to put another, in what I thought, was his place.
From the lab I waited three days, then came my answer.
The Doctor quickly said Tom “You have Parotid Gland cancer”.
So cancer became the match that would set my fields on fire,
I sought the face of Jesus and once more I could easily respire.
In faith I asked Jesus, i believed, and confessed my sin,
and at that moment I felt forgiven and became born again.
Now many years and speed bumps later I still grasp his hand,
Jesus is still my captain and I’m still under his command.
.
there was a young banty rooster named Ben
who liked to hit on all of the old hens
one sad summer day it was said
an axe was taken to his head
now all the old hens are safe in their pen
I was asked, “have you ever been hit on the jaw?”
I replied, on occasion, I’ve hit a fist with my face.
“Looks like scar tissue is the conclusion I draw”
“but I’ll send it to the lab to be sure that’s the case”
Four days later I got a call that had the answer,
I knew it was bad when He wouldn’t tell my wife.
He was quick to the point, “you’ve Parotid gland cancer,”
and about four days later I was under his knife.
In the Sixties the C word usually meant dying,
so I sought the hand of the one I’d long ignored.
The thought of eternal hell became horrifying,
and from desperation I took the hand of the Lord.
I fell down on my knees and started praying,
not asking for a healing but forgiveness that day.
Believing that He would hear what I was saying,
and that my new life path would be His way.
This all came to pass fifty-seven years ago,
at age Twenty-Eight I took the hand of Jesus.
I’ve clutched it tightly not ever letting go,
it took His death on the cross from sin to free us.
Thank you Jesus for blessing/extending my life.
Miracle Man
"Out to Sea"
In the immediate times
we rush to consume it all
before it is all swallowed, and out it all comes salty,
like an Ocean pummelling our crumbling sures
eating away our solidarity
insouciantly the sandy impermanent escarpment caves in
on our gossamer dissolving world
and in the eye of the storm
in the middle of it all
for a small moment all is calm
while the catastrophes move blithely around us,
hitting us brashly like we’ve been hit on a caffeine high
we are simultaneously aware of time standing still and then,
the swift pull of a rug unceremoniously out beneath our feet
some strange gravity slides
towards that ridiculous prophecised inevitability
of kingdoms come and gone
we thought we knew everything
the truth is we were the dumb awake
knowing little of everything
and much of what mattered little
and all as one
we are drowned soundly, gladly,
like into an open-eyed baptismal grave
we are forever and ever
naked as a child
washed clean
out to sea
Candide Diderot. ‘25
Unafraid of hits on my life by
the mafia Ciro Gargano arson
murderer it's been a hit on my
life since Christmas eve 1984
tailor shop murders inc. go
ahead Ciro hit me again how
about another assassination
attempt or go all the way out
with another bomb in my face
now that was very effective right
traumatic brain injury just so you
and Jamaican jay townsend
Johnson Henry could extort
my american poetry murder me
for witnessing the plotting
of arson murder of 9 people
hit me Ciro Gargano go ahead
and hit me again I will never
ever fear organized crime
corruption abuse of power
bullying intimidating me in
American
Diddy said he didn’t do what many say he did
but Diddy’s only famous for he knows the talented
if Biggie wasn’t shot Diddy would not have had a hit
but Diddy put the hit on Biggie that is why he did
Though he had the power he never had the skill
paying all that money for somebody else to kill
the competition that went missing when the spot was failed
by Bad Boy Records never special Diddy died a jailed
I'm a bad boy, and it is uncanny
How I always get hit on my fanny.
If I could get my paws...
What I mean, Santa Claus -
I wish Julie Andrews for my nanny.
Constantly my pen hit on paper
Asking myself
Can a man sink his roots so deep in he's faith
That he knows that it's breaches would shoot out only to be cut of
Like the sound of joy taking flight and filling the streets
You see from birth to bed of no existence
Like a bird in a cage
I cried for freedom,but freedom was an island of cages
We are told that we are free in the pages of a book
Like books in a library our freedom has been confined to the walls we see
You see God guaranteed freedom,but responsibility limits it to choice like a child I thought freedom was for grown ups ,wen I got in the train of adult hood for freedom was an illusion because you are immune with immunity gives no choice for invisibility
Our protectors can't protect us people who are supposed to stop stealing now steal from us
leaders of tomorrow
Who's tomorrow never comes
Like religion monsters who buried lies in the sermons of greener pastures.
Master of lies laying destructive eggs incubated with psychological Vision
With prophesying the unseen Vision
Let this be The Genesis of our evolution
So let me reintroduce myself as the poetic samurai as I cut through the tragic of life
As humanity embraces it's inner beast ,
And we became monsters of our own making
What you see is what you get ! Life is an illusion
And to see through the lenses of life you need a covenant eye
For all we see in this life is the evil that lives in the heart of men As brother guns down brothers
Our sisters seeking for money pleasure from these diabetes over grown men as boy friend so they diabetic income is insufficient of insulin to reduce the sugar income .
Like our men of God (prophesying the the unseen version) digging deeper for deep pockets sugar coated phrase of fraud
With heavy tithes on offer
Let me not run away from what we have become humanity has become more
Dangerous than the wild animals
So don't let me cut the truth into the lies we tell ourselves wen we go to sleep
We have become brain dead
Our brain cell will only comprehend money and sex
We betrayed kisses in exchange for selfies as
Desires become selfish
Teenage get sex before sex ads
As my thoughts constantly hit on paper to rewrite the past
It’s been so n i c e - to hear you now
It’s been awhile
Feeling like a l o s e r n o w
Over my heart I f a l l
Like a sucker punch
It hurts so s w e l l
T e l l m e
T a l k to m e
Tell me how you really feel - about m e
T a l k to m e
Come on - talk to me
Blue face Betty
It’s been months
It’s been dizzying
Life without you
Seems like the worlds empty
With empty w o r d s
Without any empathy
It’s cold in my heart
T e l l m e
T a l k to m e
Tell me how you really feel - about m e
T a l k to m e
Come on - talk to me
Blue face Betty
Hit on me
Turn your lips on me
Take me out with a tease
Come on Betty
Come on Betty
Come on Betty
Come on Betty
Come on Betty
T a l k to m e
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