Yo Yo

yo yo yo

The Legend of Robert Johnson

Mississippi blues in my blood,
New Orleans in my soul.
Goin’ be a famous blues musician,
Though I can’t play.
Sent out from the plantation,
under cover of darkness.
Headin’ down to the crossroads,
Where I was told to run.

Soft, slippery wood against my hand,
my guitar strings howlin’ in the night.
The hot stench of sulfur,
Burning my nose.
An eminent outline,
The nefarious demon stands amidst the moon light.
Breath hot like fire,
His eyes a blood red

His scorched hands seize my guitar,
The wind changes at my feet.
A hollow clunk with screams of sadness,
My guitar gleams with malevolent power.
Given the gift of soul,
Though the price was my own.
I’ve become king of the Delta,
Singing the greatest blues ever created.

The demons and hellhounds in my dreams,
Haunt and torment me with persistence.
I think back on that fateful night,
The devil in his smoldering clothes.
I thanked him for my harmonious deliverance,
He welcomed me graciously into damnation.
Dead for seventy years,
My blues still cry out to the night.

“I pray that my redeemer will come and take me from my grave.”

Ghazal {Also know as Guzzle}

Inside these cozy homes a sweet retreat to rest your feet, on the avenue
If I could only borrow the keys, on the avenue

A car sputters its life’s brevity
Its black fog swirls with the amber leaves, on the avenue

Like patchwork the lawns are well trimmed and neatly hedged sweet greed
A little girl forced to eat sweet peas, on the avenue

The flight of plastic bags and there skin flapping in the air
Stuffed with the Sundays news through the trees, on the avenue

Red bricks white borders green ivy grows along the house side
Nesting soon enough a pride full of worker bees, on the avenue

Fathered By Memories

you were a giant to the kids
in the neighborhood,
they used to joke you would hit your head
on the clouds.
memories when, with all your strength
you lifted your car into the sky.
and the day in the pool when you saved her life.
games like red light green light,
when you let us win.
those where the days I don’t remember.

late nights spent playing
football and racing track cars
laughing when you crashed
your laugh was a force
to be reckoned with
along with your anger
but I don’t remember much of that
mournful days spent reading letters you wrote for work
hearing your voice on the church choir cassette.

to the days of your demise
I wanted no other father
I learned about you through mom
she said you gave me advice,
when I was only six
it would be easier to go on without you
if these memories were my own
so I shed a lonely tear and wait
growing up with only memories