About the book
"Life in Literary Terms" is a
collection of poems that expresses my heart on a variety of different subjects
and things that have taken place in the lives of those around me as well as myself. The purpose of the
book is to share lessons learned in life an artistic manner, thus Life in
Literary Terms.
The following is one of the poems included in the book, as a sample of what to expect.
The following is one of the poems included in the book, as a sample of what to expect.
Art to Art
I stood next to a Graff artist as he began to work
I watched as he thought of the things he had seen and heard
To him the wall was a canvas primed and ready
His gaze was sharp and his hands were steady
A smile crept across his face as he began to shake his can
And looked more and more like a composer with every arch of his hand
I’m not sure at what point his eyes went blind
But not once did he stop to check the time
It looked like the mural began to paint itself
And used his body like a puppet because he thought of nothing else
As he finished and he stepped back he took his headphones down
Then he told me that his focus came from the fact he kept his music loud
It’s funny how one art inspires another
A symbiotic relationship they feed off each other
I stood next to a composer
What we now call a producer
As he tracked his beats
He reminded me of a pianist
The way he worked the machine
So many sounds he blended
As his hands flew across the board
Pushing buttons turning knobs
Moving faders back and forth
I’m not sure at what point his eyes went blind
The beat seemed to write it self
As his head nodded in time
When he was done he showed me a picture of a mural on a wall
Said his little sister used to dance her pants off
Said the reason that he writes his beats
Is so that where ever she is his sis can move her feet
It’s funny how one art can inspire and other
A symbiotic relationship they feed off each other
I stood next to a dancer
As she practiced her routine
And the way she moved
Was the most graceful thing I’d ever seen
Every move she made
Ment to invoke an emotion
Every turn every spin every dip
Was more fluid than the ocean
I’m not sure at what point her eyes went blind
But she went into her own world
When she started to smile
The music pulled her strings
As it began to crescendo
Like she was a puppet
And the music her Gheppetto
When she was done she told me
Her favorite poet was Gil Scott Heron
Who continued to write
Though he was politically hated
From this she learned
No matter what never stop being creative.
It’s funny how one art can inspire another
A symbiotic relationship they feed off each other
So as I began to write
I thought of the graffer
And the producer and the dancer
And the passion that they showed
With the craft that they mastered
And wrote about their passion
And their intentions and their expressions
And I wondered if they realized
That their gift was a blessing
And I don’t know at point my eyes went blind
But someone said I looked like a
Pianist on the keys as I typed
I just smiled and said to my brother
It’s funny how one art can inspire another.