Exhibitionist Artistry

To
Pen-stripes and asphalt

Called were the keepers of the Gate
In wait for princess cut beats and a glimpse into
Spirits blooming flowers
melodically defining showers of conscience

hazy clouds roll and echo power lyrics
to the people.

The Right sounds of
Bankhead are
Pleating sunshine
Folding summer over black beads,
as gallery Flashes Krylon Vogue
and Tennessee Whiskey

Ol No. 7
Thunder bright
Curve
Halo
Hello
Wow!
Right now
Lyrics make Good Music to my
Kangol over Pumas
can u hear
hear dance steps
summon
call and response?

Pay us for your blessings with
Flour and water messages
Slowly baking
Breathing vapors thickened
with heat and sweat beads pooling in
inky, sneaker-squeaked atmosphere
I WUZ HERE.


Let the dancers dance
Let the music play…
what you know bout that
Old school jones
Jams playing reRun like,
"Wus hannin shawty?"

When I could ride with remedies in East Point
I cherish the moments like
Human-made adornments on quilts
Still nods to the breakdancer
in front of the photography exhibit.

And the movie rocks frozen frames
cue hand standing ovation
in 3, 2, …

Like how our smiles glance slightly off center
At folks who fear dance
Telling the back story of the trials and
Startling moments when tribulations
Set in…

we couple at an angle

A cute dress, handsome pressed
We observe others engaged
in small talk Because it’s that serious
I squint my ears and sniff words of
sunshine salad dressing
sharing liquid jewels
of Oysters amidst a back drop
Of hip hop booming through the advertisement
for the highest bidding soul on ice

Moons ago we framed conversations
To muse over and inspire our eyes
With wisdom, wonder, and pathways…
When the volume
Was cut down
And the DJ let the kaleidoscope colors of the day
Fade
To
Black,

hip hop remains
forever...