Pokey Lafarge – La la blues

Got to meet one of my favorite singers today. Andrew Heissler of Pokey Lafarge. He has one of the coolest sounds in music and he’s a class act to boot! So thankful to run into him in my favorite guitar shop, Mike’s Music in Cincinnati.

JGivens – Ignorantro

Verbal Napalm

JGivens – Super Lowkey

So much respect. Pray 4 J Givens.

Secret Video: password = cincinnati

The Drive Media House guys at it again.

My love poem to Cincy. The city that’s gritty not shitty.

Through My Eyes: The Cincinnati Love Story from Drive Media House on Vimeo.

Drowning

Sometimes when I sit down to write a poem about God, I end up writing one about my grandfather. And sometimes when I try to write about my grandfather, I end up writing about God.

Stayin’ sharp

On the subject of subjects.
Subjective Adjectives.
Word addicts diss
their untaught counterparts.
Countertops where we rest our hands.
Kitchen tables where we discuss.
“What’s this fuss about?” asks Dad concerned.
He had been reading the paper,
but now you have his full attention.
To detail. Attention K-mart shoppers!
There’s been a reduction on Nike running shoes.
Hermes sure would have something to say.
About the Air Maxes that bare his name.
He’d be a real bear to deal with,
but he’s lightning on his feet.
Better than lightning on his hands,
Jimi would understand.
Hendrix needed acid. Or did acid need Hendrix?
I always forget which way it goes.
And it goes on and on.
Can’t stop won’t stop. Ooo baby, baby.
Let my people go! Aww naw, Pharaoh talking to us.
Shad said that Rosa got told to get off of da bus.
Like Jerome. Unknown, untold riches,
for he who snitches on all his friends.
It never ends.
On the subject of predicates.

the pen and its ink

Just see what happens.
Press the pen to the page.
Press.
Bleed ink.
Bleed.

A pool of black ink swirling.
Dive in.
Hold your breath.
Or don’t.

Swallow the ink.
Choke.
Sputter and spit ink onto the page.
Breathe.

Inhale the thick smell.
Your eyes will roll back into your head.
Your eyes.
Ask them what they see.

My arm is an extension of me.
My hand is an extension of my arm.
My pen is an extension of my hand.
Understand?

Start something
that you’ll never finish.
Finish something you
never meant to start.

Begin.

Front Porch Step – Island of the Misfit Boy

My sister showed this to me. There is so much pain in his voice. I don’t think you can fake that sound or that misery.

From Father to Son

Relax.
It will come, just give it time.
I will give you something great.
Something reliable to hold on to.
Something as loyal as you are.

She will make you laugh, my son.
She will want to talk until midnight.
She will scratch your head and understand.

You will build something great; you and her.
People will stop and stare. They will ask to take part.
It will be a light (glowing), it will illuminate.

Promise me you’ll love her; make an oath.
Make a covenant and a bond. Make it last.
Defy the odds. Defy your flesh.
Love her

Give gifts. Give yourself away. Lose track of time.
Serve her, my son. Serve her when you’re tired.
Serve her when you are weak. Serve her when you want to cry,
when you want to break something over your knee.

Hold her, my son, she will hold you right back.
You are valuable. You are not your work.
Remember your identity and love out of that.
Tell your children what she means to you.

Show the world what I look like.

—–

Maybe you and me should draw a line in the quicksand.