Dirty Blue

THAT eternity is a carcass I sit inside that is ballooning and ballooning. You forgot, my grandfather’s grandfather had No name.

We are like splashes of bright paint, Pollock style, on black and white history.

WE Emerge from every orifice of the carcass, rising, like plumes of smoke.

Phospherescent, Underwater, Krishna-blue blood.

Dirty Blue, Royal Blue blood bleeding out of Me

Onto the Fields, into soil, into you

grasped by my children‘s children’s children’s

Small Golden hands

And these kids Be, neo soul, contemporary Experimental Jazz

and they will be told it was all a part of the dance, because the story is always woven that way, we are pattern-seeking beings

(Regardless, with hindsight, all things take form, less things take flight)

I permeated the whole Thing.

Fate or the divine intersection of Will?

Glistening from above, every path of Us

Giving structure to that which could not be contained,

Sweet beautiful anomalies, there is no evolution without

Mutation. I drew a line through time to reach you

from the outer to inner concentric circles of a spiral

through karma oscillating,

So I could bury ancestral magic as deep as stars inside of you,

Dirty Blue,

Light does not experience Time.

I was born with eyes as black as meteorites,

Born into black samba,

with a clenched fist, and a handful of crayons,

with rainbows in my blood bleeding rainbows, already with no real Origin,

A composite image, of us now and us then on slave ships, and of

You in the future.

I climbed paradigms,

I swam across galax-seas to find you,

to free you,

so there is no need to

Drag Dreams across Eternity,

For Paradise to take hold,

This soil has been made fertile,

by warriors with no names, but

Earth remembers Everything,

Especially that which cannot be contained