At my conception
music was embroidered into my soul.
A tapestry rich in rhythm is woven
through me winding in and around guts
and attaching blood to spirit.
There-from, a wellspring of inspiration
fizzes continuously like a fuse wire
buzzing toward its dynamite.
Excitingly, jagged rock
scrapes against membranes;
tones of the blues as smooth
as melted chocolate ooze
like silk through veins and brain.
Melodies and airs murmur
their dulcet expectations.
Musical exhilaration is as normal as my pulse.
-
As a whisper holds more dreams
than the shrillest shriek; thus
I feel singing is easier than talking
to meld my meaning into all of you.
To unpick the thread,
weaved as it is through
my African heartbeats,
would kill me dead.
Inny. Outys must be banished to somewhere.
My kids and theirs. Music, writing, composing and performing. Sport esp. rugby. psychology, politics and chips (fries). Guinness, especially Guinness.