For These Things, I Am THANKFUL

I am Thankful to be free… finally free of the slavery enforced upon me by that old rabid dog called nicotine; free from the habit that constricted my life-force and made a mockery of... my health.

I am Thankful for the trials and tribulations because they have made me live my life more intentionally... deepening my sense of purpose while granting me a roadmap to karmic destiny and spiritual wealth.

I am Thankful that, my enemies, few as they may be, have revealed themselves, and thus allowed me and others to see their true face.

I am Thankful to not be in possession of a mean or vengeful spirit, thankful that there is such a thing as showing one’s “True Colors” and for being able to see this in all its beauty or to recognize its ugliness.

I am Thankful Dr. Alexander Del Vecchio exists, and that his impeccable timing, his surgical skills and his goodwill contributed greatly in extending the course of my life.

I am Thankful for technology and for the genius invention of the pacemaker.

I am Thankful for my mother’s strength; and I do marvel at the fact of how her spine and her arms and her back have grown stronger in these times of uncertainty.

I am Thankful to those who had the foresight to have told me “No!” or who said I “Wasn’t Ready” when time has proven that they truly knew better than I.


I am Thankful that people like Whitman and Picasso, Langston and Jimmy, Ingrid and Sidney, Nina and Cicely, Miles and Stevie, Richard and Amiri, Maya and Marlon, and Nick and Phoebe existed and will always exist to teach and inspire the masses.

I am Thankful for those who are so much, smarter, deeper, wiser than I and who continue to show me new Life Lessons.


I am thankful for my Doctors, my Lawyers, my Nurses, my Angels, and my personal Dream Team who have remained so steadfastly by my side.


I am Thankful for the caring of Carolyn, and the charm and company of Jan Yves, and the sunshiny rays Sunni, the good deeds and musical gifts of Derrek and Lucas, the continual loveliness of Lori, and the wonders of Wynn. I just THANK them for being IN my Life.

I am Thankful for the slow yet gradual return of my Right Mind, Right Voice and my Right Instincts... which were once dulled by illness and stymied by anesthesia.


I am Thankful that my blood still races with the pace of a Gushing God!


I am Thankful for breathing, thankful for every breath, so much so, that I shall never take the miracle of simply breathing for granted ever again.



Snatch JOY and a turkey leg!







One.

Today’s Musical Selection Will Be

Do you ever howl sometimes in a loud, yet quiet note?
Do strange fingers ever reach out and
Stroke some sleeping
Ache, lodged within
Your Soul?

Does a tear ever make a clearly distinct noise
As it crawls… before falling
In a singular ping of
A triangle's
Jangle?

If the written word were a strain of music,
Arranged to echo the sound of your
Essence, what tune would it
Assume? What instrument,
What timbre would suit
The voice of your
Deepest
Mood?

Would you strum your strings softly
Or bleat your horn, loudly?
Would you swiftly strike
Every key upon your
Piano, like a
Virtuoso,
Angrily?

If the spoken words were music, what
Sound would you affect? The vibrato
Of a cello? The rhymic pounding of
Drum? Perhaps a bass
With its resounding
Fret?

If your emotions were a symphony,
Would they thunder in dissonance,
Vibrate with sound and righteous
Fury… Or stew and brew
Like Miles Davis'
Mute?

Me? I am muting today, deep in my own
Blue instrumental jam. I am a hobo's
Trumpet… Awaiting the lips of
A muse to stroke me sweetly,
And blow upon my
Chrome.

I am a solo sound with no direction… lyrics
In search of introspection. I am
A wild note, cast to
A mercurial wind.
A distant quake
From a faraway
Gong.

Perhaps… this is my most authentic
Resonance … the genuine tone
Trapped within the solitary riffs
Of my lone blown
Lin-song.




One.




© 2011 by L.M.Ross moaningmanblues



And on a sadder musical note:





Rest In Peace Heavy D...You always brought a sense of fun & a party vibe to the Hip-hop game. You will be seriously missed.

Moanman-out.

The God Voice: For Coltrane, Dem Blues-Playas & Myself

Maybe
God
Sounds like
Satchmo
On a good day or
A bad night,
With a slight cold
In a wheezy
Scratch-throated
Cry of
The Blues.

Yeah...
Maybe Jazz
And Blues be
The Music of
A Woozy God, High
And addicted to this
Possibility in us,
And yet
Hip
To this slick
Grog of
Disappointment.

Maybe that
God Voice Cries
From the feet
And the spine
And the lungs
And the lips
And the heart
Of Slaves...
And maybe now
The players must cling
To horns like
Old Negroes
Clung tight to Spirituals
Or lapsed Catholics
Do to prayers and
Crucifixes.

Maybe the
God Voice
Is in our music, yo.

But, on a good day
In a bad way
Some sanctified players
Still come out to play...
And they reach down
Deep beneath

The lost years
The lost faith
The lost pride
The lost grooves
The lost eyes
The bad trips
The counterfeits
The heroin scabs
And infected chicks
To find magic
In that
Sweet and Mystic Riff.

And That God Voice
Kicks in
So deep,
So painful,
So real,
So necessary that
It clears the tears
From the blare
Of the
Horn...

And it makes
Its God Noise
So Real and
So strong...
So authentic
So calm
That it makes you
Believe in
Magic
Again.

Yeah...
Just maybe Jazz
And Blues be
The music of
A Woozy God,
So High,
So addicted to this
Possibility of
Us...
And yet,
Hip
To this slick grog
Of disappointment.



One.