R.I.P. K.L.

blacqbook photo: connie 19
blacqbook photo: connie 19
R.I.P. K.L.
blacqbook photo: bench the living or be benched
Outside of
two years ago
sitting on a side bench
along a wall in a hallway
I observed Mercedes in conversation
I hadn’t seen her since years before
Is she grander?
loftier
I sensed we were the dream
as her tête-à-tête ended
she began to make her way over to me
to greet her, I found myself standing
searching for words
mirroring my emotions
first thought “I love you” or
maybe something else
more true than truth
as she reached me, out of my mouth
with great warmth
looking directly into her
“I miss you”
these words were complete
Mercedes was about to join me
on the bench to catch up on time passed
she then held on to the sides of her dress
as it seemed to fill up with air
fully inflated, she floated away
blacqbook photo: warmed over summer busters
red white and blue
with a side of orange
in a field of yellow
plastic body parts
from toe to top
blacqbook photo: non presidential formation
blacqbook photo: partners
often together
side by side
in harmony
the numbers two and three
synced
as one
a great number
twenty three
blacqbook photo: clubs and the "kiss"
nature at the piano - R.I.P. Prince
blacqbook photo: oscar leaves the party
Image: blacqbook+jazzsezhi
After streaming David Bowie’s album “Blackstar” yesterday (on Apple Music) I made plans to comment in iTunes for the first time with “blacqbook says yes”. I decided to wait until today to coincide with my son’s 18th Birthday - 1/11/2016. This morning Jazz said to me “your favourite died of cancer”. I wouldn’t really call Bowie my favourite but I did feel much of his music. I remember decades ago in the early morning hours, sitting on the floor in a hallway, a house party winding down with Bowie’s album “Scary Monsters” playing and me thinking “this is so right”. Today, my comment ends up here instead. Jazz has grown up and “Blackstar” lives on.
blacqbook photo: christmas drive-by
christmas lights on evening arrival in the caribbean
the madness
gives an ear to
unreal conversation
you think me mad
but with you I laugh
all the way up from a giggle
oh, the happy times in my head
turn away if I disturb you
giveaway in a telling look
why not see him?
he's in his own mini world
yet he's alright
the journey seems to be
never ending awareness
but you, you've grown tired
at this time
no need to hear me laugh
reflection is better suited
lead me, leave me in the doorway
away from the humming man
my chatty laughter
turned upside down
into projected unexpected
humming, self absorbed
from the mini world
staring straight
in the face
of the condemned body
blacqbook photo: tree up high
if I was the star
I would go from village to village
listening for the sweet music
in the stillness of the sky
the tree would be my source of drink
dialogue would flow on down from the vine
reaching across this vast earth
I would unashamedly dance through nature
reflecting all of the world
not the bad, nor the good
I would savour the night
from high over the greatest mountains
transporting dreams to the dreamers
I would be courageous
I would run to you
blacqbook photo: dandelion blacq
be the light
she's the light
go forth
summon the light
the light shines on her
light, attract light
be
he keeps his money
a few dollars
secured
inside a paper bag, in his front pocket
sanitary reasons
his teeth look nice
he is always with odor
no eyelets, on his shoes
no zipper
no back pocket, on jeans
no belt, because they have buckles
one never knows, what one can catch
from copper or brass
only a piece of string
twine, to hold up his disinfected jeans
‘mad sammy’ they call him
apparently, there’s no control
over the singing that he hears
inside his very private world
some may welcome the day
when they too can travel
to where the noise vanishes
from this land, long forsaken
by the creators and the wanderers
there is no easy entry
still
money, deejay and pants
remain optional
blacqbook photo: talking to shadows
I came in with nothing
wanna leave with nothing
wanna leave something
no big wish, no to do list
just gotta gotta do it
leave something
could even be a scrawl
don't want nothing
I'll give you something
that takes you to your past
to when there was nothing
everything was nothing you could take
they wanted to leave with nothing
leave us something
like drawings on the wall
give us bone give us wisdom
leave us nothing but the earth
I came in with nothing
wanna leave with nothing
wanna leave something
more than just words
some inspiration for the masses
so they want to leave with nothing
not trying to make sense of it all
don't want nothing
I'll give you something
in some deep dark cave
when I leave with nothing
like drawings on the wall
blacqbook photo: my dream in white
bring me more peace and serenity
bring me some toys
suspend me
down from your heavens
bring me more sweets
bring me some joy
down from your heavens
float me
bring me no noise
then let me rest
Do you love me?
show me hate, anguish and torture
Do you love me?
show me the other side
the side I understand so well
teach me jealousy, weakness and selfishness
honor me with misery
Do you love me?
tell me lies
take away my passion
take away the pleasure
Do you love me?
cast me out, not once
but too many times to count
shine the harsh light on me
judge me and belittle me
Do you love me?
in the moment, don’t think of me
ignore me and use me
constrain me, stifle me
Do you love me?
drench me with negativity
view freedom as confinement
pigeonhole me
Do you love me?
call me the enemy
hide in the darkness
blame me for the world’s unhappiness
Do you love me?
slaughter me and pray
for another to love
blacqbook photo: porker portrait
Last week I bought into Lana Del Rey's "Ultraviolence". This week some warped jerk sleep-living and subconsciously seeking his next incarnation, slaughtered a seemingly harmless family in Houston. I know, I know - it's not his fault, nor the inanimate gun's fault - it's the system's fault again. My week ends as I buy into Sia's "Free the Animal".
photography dreams, photography dreams
I'm having photography dreams
the rain is shooting down
huge frogs, three in all
big and green, call one gigantic
one is just plain tall
standing on benches, we're all on two legs
seems a little high and close to the edge
I'm stepping back
my coat is drenched in red
from berries stirred in a big pot
of iron and black
laughing animals, first one
on a surface of wet stone
curled up in laughter, then two
not from a zoo
but from the wild in outback zone
seems fitting, could be
finally looking down
someone small tugging at me
the circus has arrived
I want to get this photo
more little people coming closer I see
then comes the shout
if you want to take pictures, take them now
I forget the flash for I snap in a hurry
in order to compose
I find somewhere to rest and bypass the flurry
ushering me from my seat
some circus performers must be off their feet
I do have this photo of an insect with great hair
I notice a large lifeless moth, as I make my way clear
from the area, the journey continues
to a circus like ride, seems so hot and so fast
screaming boys dive in alongside plump chickens while they cluck
making their way through a maze like contraption, for cooking
maybe used to pluck, zipping right then left
with no chance of getting stuck
another parallel scene has come into being
a child wants his picture taken for a younger me
activity is all encircling, confusion sets in
another small child diverts all attention away
from the main event of someone fleeing
the chase is on, stop thief
the race across the subway tracks
shouting officer, officer give up an ear
there he goes, right over there
he grabbed my camera bag
it all happened so fast and like it began
the race has become the past
I run him down, no place to turn
for him there's nowhere to run
for me it's all wide open fields
and now I know what this all means
as I still have my photography dreams
blacqbook photo: fly back
Thank you Stephanie in Seattle for mojo on Zazzle.
religion is a part of life
for some
for many close
to death and touching no one
reaching past the present
which is BC
what if Jesus wore a suit?
would he have been nailed to a cross?
gone up in a forest full of trees
would his followers have been less or more?
could sacrifice come to the man in a suit?
with BMW but still no shoes
still feeling the earth
ascending higher
for the memory of Jesus
is one of the street person
not a crier in the bunch
walking among the common people
leading to one truth
judging when being so close to being judged
prayer and worship
prop up the liars
for they are but a lie
they worship the suit
and walk their lonely streets
with a ready hot iron