I am the sing-song
Embedded in your lost heart
I am your soul-song
My heart-rending notes
Need I know on whom they land?
Or may I just sing?

Original Thought Credit: Tasha Cobbs Leonard, “I’m Getting Ready”
Has my song struck out
Whistled ribbit-rhythm sunken
Never to ascend?

Now friend, come outside
See me, how I summon thee
Each and ev’ry morn’
And then, daylight
Appeared — what for, this song
This soft white light
The quiet, cool exhalation
I’d waited a lifetime
None books I’d read
No wisdom sent my way
Foretold through the ages
Oh, those kind sages!
The wholesale beauty of you
“I feel a small fire….”
She says, in sing-song slang.
God knows, she’s afire.
A going has to come, I know
An acquiescence to the shortened days
A refusing to refuse the night
I’ll clothe myself in skin-tone colors
I will stop hearing creation’s groan silenced
I’ll start feeling good, acting great, again
Original Thought Credit: Nina Simone, “Feeling Good”
I cannot remember the words
The top-ten song that found us there, together again that night
A vintage crimson string, tethering us to our wild years
All we knew in common, refined in the storm of them
I sang to you in the sheets we shared
That now escaped melody, I swear to you, sugar, it kills me
If you heard me, say you remember the words
You should turn on your headlights and come drive ’round here
Get here fast, then cruise real slow
For this pavement may not be ready yet for such a soulful soul
Such intention and growl, bold and sweet, has long been absent from this street
May spinning wheels find linear track
Have a song playing loud in your heart, so the whole neighborhood knows
Your intentions
Whatever they may be
I’ve no wants or words of wisdom there, and you’ll do what you want, anyway
As you should, but I will say
You should turn on your headlights and come drive ’round here