DOWN HOME BLUES
Let me set this post off right. Let me set the mood for you real quick by sharing a poem I wrote that will take you back in time. A time when the lives of those around me became the bricks in my foundation. A time when I was too young to know but too old not to know about certain things. What am I talking about?? DOWN HOME BLUES (poem) I used to watch the way she crossed her legs when she sat at the table, gracefully sliding a Virginia Slim from its home ever so slightly, caressing the butt of it with her tongue as if reassuring them of their love affair. As the jukebox yelled out the moans of Tyrone Davis, that is... The brotha at the table in the left corner is locked in on how her hips are flowing on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi Reminiscing about the games he played many many times before Looking back once more to find his baby not in sight Giving him no sign that would make her change her mind about last night. Her chair seductively begs for her return But the next wor...