the universe perceived itself through human eyes ~ not animal cries
evolution’s slow intelligence quick ~ monkeys dont carry white sticks
einstein seen past the limitations of brains ~ using physics sans pain
By
David Kavanagh
Apollo seeks worship.
What shall you write
to honor love. That ye
Sickened may heal.
That songs shall speak
With lyrics that are truest
to there music.
Honor ye oh God
With harmony and melody.
Honor ye father truest
To perfection.
Ye Apollo's am God
And the sounds of
reheasted people have
made Compositions
there priority and duty.
Honor ye Apollo as
God!
With flute, chello, violen,
drums,. Trumpets, frenchhorns
Opportunity and expression
Honor thee.
That love, the truest love
can bring the coldest of hearts
to be kind.
Honor ye Apollo that grooves
In melonic rhythm can make
Lyric to be voiced.
Honor ye oh Apollo
That from forever the notes
Shall be instruction to create.
Honor ye Apollo.
The God of. Music!
Gamble and Huff
with all that rhythmic stuff
Throwing down and making 'em get down
to that sweet soul 'Philly Sound'
The Jacksons, Teddy, Phyllis, and the Mighty O'Jays
sweet pulsating sounds for days on days
Fingers snapping, toe-tapping, and heads nodding
Beautiful bodies up bopping and Soul Train hopping
Peanut Butter and Jelly on bread, so sweet
a Philly combination that can't be beat
Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff
Oh so smooth and sho Nuff tough
They called themselves
the "Moody Glues"
like jets in flight
higher than kites
huffing to no note deadbeat drummers
forever marching covertly across handless
fields of teenage want.
Tubing--a way countering neigh-boring hoods
of muddle class clones, quickly learning the
brown bag cost
Fuming to convey their High brain frost.
Dig it daddyo, cool beans, the 50's "Glues Clues"
60's
sharing in an ever raging generational divide of
pandemic Paradies Lost.
Why must you mutter?
Well, why do YOU huff?
Seems we’ve reached a standoff,
Enough is enough!
For thirty odd years
When I enter the room,
I hear all the rumblings
A prophet of gloom!
And for ME, all these years
I hear unhappy sighs
As if you’ve been wounded
Or the sun will not rise
Are you so unhappy?
Do I cause YOU grief?
Is that what you think?
Guess that is MY belief
The mutter you hear is a prayer
How could you be so wrong?
I’m thanking the powers that be,
Without you I can’t get along
Funny, the huff that
you’re hearing, my dear
is a sigh of relief
Knowing you are still here!
May WE mutter and huff
till our dying days
Or, may we BILL and COO,
Please let me rephrase!
HUFF AND BUFF
Life can be rough and tough you may huff and buff struggle and work. You may not get time for yourself. Trust me toss a coin. Heads you will suffer, suffer and suffer. Tails you will somehow survive it all till the end and life would be a structure of what agony you had left being in time.
:-Mawra.J
He sits on his fat butt
he's in a real huff
he fell face first off his lily pad
trying to catch flies.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Sept.17/2004
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