[WHEN THIS SONG IS SUNG] A COLLAB FEATURING Sarah Russell.
THIS PICTURE SPARKED A DISCUSSION BETWEEN SARAH AND I WHEN I SUGGESTED USING IT. LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK...
THE MUSIC AND THE PIECE DOES GO WITH IT.
http://youtu.be/joOUZWxF_BY
S
The sounds of Anti-living drum incessant off the steaming streets, the manholes of oblivion rattling ominous decree as mindless wheels roll over dreams and leave exhaust where breath should be. A single Ginkgo tree can take that poison and make sweet air for many.. when a stand of them watch shoulder to shoulder, the many shudder reminiscing what they never knew they lost. our We. I stomp and scratch and wail and you beat chest and holler NOW and holy waves of water rain down washing poisons deep in swirls of scatter.. just ignore the chatter and this silent sweeping music from our hopscotch laughing dance... the march of Freedom in this land, rises like steam swells as clouds..
J
As the sun rises from the leaves of the tree and graces I and humanity... all the way to the bone.
As the breeze wafts away on his gentle journey... here a breeze... around the world a storm.
So in a way must we be.
The healing of a nation on the cantor of words that fall onto the page and get repeated on the stage... We the poet... We the mage.
As an oak grows strong in the midst of the humming mass of humanity and thrusts it arms skyward, as if begging for our miserable lives... We who just take, take, take.
I hear the beat of your feet as you dance and I a man roar from my roots in tribal rage as the water, land, and ether are raped so savagely by the need to assert authority.
Broken down into most simplistic form this land is but one of many where so many poor live in such squalor while the rich lavishly slather reality onto the t.v. screen.
Freedom begins as a seed in the heart that grows into a mighty forest... I just one of many.
Rising like blunt smoke on the whirlwind.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY AND @SARAH RUSSELL
