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7
sitting here
at the keyboard,
lettered blue notes
flow with rhythmic melodies
inking bars of varied clefts
of poetic pitch
rising from
b flat decrescendos
to c sharp crescendos—
peaking trilling lights of truth
from a major second:
gifted by the most high—
tuba blasting to depressed
notes now whining spine-tingling
wails the trane left behind
for you to forward
that we could go ahead
even when just sitting, parking,
and monking around
in a blue note frame of mind
undulating rivers of memory bars
flowing to spirited shores scattered
with footprints of giant steps
ancestors left back to the beginning
enabling us to ping whole notes
from the golden hieroglyphic improvisations
of ourstory as we beat out polyrhythmic
emotions of the love supreme
that continues to keep and sustain us:
may the heat of the ancestors’ hearts
continue to radiate and warm our melodic souls…
