a mud jones poem

called organic soul

  

Not since Wes Montgomery and Baby Face

has there appeared here, a grace of space - like you;

Mud Jones, you are that universal Organic Soul,

growing up in the middle of no man’s desert land,

 

that manifold man-child in the promised land -

 

That solitary lotus flower,

transforming pain into pure gold,

movin’ groovin’ slingin’ slammin’ bangin’ arrangin’

metronomic leaping beats and melodies into

resurrecting transcendental Light;

 

You be pluckin’ guitar chords without a pick,

a resplendent word and song-ographer of soft compassionate

needle notes that stitch and hold the soul together;

You be a stormy weather, a floating symphonic innovative

feather, combining jazz, rap, and hip-hop, into cosmic

interstellar rain drops of afro-centric New-Age Dhikrullah,

of angels, men, and praying jinn, flying dreamscape skies,

on prayer carpets of OMniversal praise and unlimited joy;

 

Mudjones, you make the dead get up to sing and dance,

Mudjones, you be a superior warrior that’s truly blessed,

Mudjones, your music wipes my tears away,

Mudjones, you put me in ecstatic trance,

 

Mudjones, you be that new lovejones of exciting musical

force this entire planet must reckon with, more powerful

than a Nuclear or Neutron Bomb, a one of a kind brilliant

cultural artistic exploding musical holocaust!

 

You be a laser razor at ONE with the hands

of that MOST GREATEST musical surgeon, that

MOST WORSHIPFUL MASTER - OUR CREATOR,

cutting away the cancer and tumors from the spirit, heart, and soul;

You are that wondrous breath of Organic fresh air, standing

on the perfect square, that living Organic philosopher’s stone -

radiating, pulsating, and emanating, while at the same time fallin’

on, and breakin’ the drunken heads of folks who simply

refuse to do the right thing;

 

Mud, i had a baby’s mama drama in dirty socks

and pajamas standing by the back door of my house

talkin’ smack and throwing things at me that i had to ask to leave too!

She also put on brown flat shoes and left her footprints in the snow

‘cause she had to go out the same back door of my life as well! 

Hell! whatever brothers can’t identify with what you so skillfully

be sayin’ playin’ and prayin’ must be deaf, dumb, and blind;

if not, then they had better dress for the weather,

because the Mudjones fallout is surely a so awesome comin’;

 

Mud, you gave them 24 hours to discover their divine mate,

a not too late optimal design of timeflyby their supercilious

disillusionment, ‘cause Mud will set u free, and then be gone -

a beautiful song, called i be missin’ you, while leavin’ you in the

dust, wishin’ for his return - while the taliban send you an authentic

historical post card from Ancient Afghanistan concerning  who our real

enemies are, and you be witnessing at the same time, a Tariq Sun Rae

Phoenix rising from the dust and ashes of an Allen Imagery complete and full

special-effect solar eclipse occurring once in a lifetime over your evolutionary

consciousness in broad open daylight, a perfected pyramidal alignment of Divine

Design on the north and south axis of your inner most BEing, while the

spiritual Amir, with such class, leaves a musical text message on the cell phone

of a disqualified, two minute sista, concerning the fact that Adam

was and still is that supreme Kalifa who walks and talks the face of this terra firma.

 

Mud, you be an evolutionary and revolutionary musical earthquake,

more awesome than a 360 degree Tsunami Knowledge tidal wave;

overturning, yet always returning in maximus laudation, 

all your gifts back to that Sacred Mirrored Self;

 

And i poetically prophesy to you my younger brother,

my awesome star of sincere Islamic crescent moon -

for i see your future brightly glowing and growing as a

numinous luminous Sun, breaking all known boundaries,

definitions, and individual restrictions, moving swiftly over the

horizon of our present troubled Age, blasting the barriers of this

imminent yet vehement world order, and you ain’t tryin’ to impress

or express no other than your marvelous self, because the only thing

that really matters is that you be true to that father, poet, priest,

teacher, and Divine healer you were always meant to see and be.

 

Mudjones, these are the colors of your spiritual aura -

that transformational wind blow over here i see,

a near and desperate need -

that Musical Direction Score

to the fore of creative originality -

 

this world ain’t never seen or met before.

  

___________________________________________________________________________________

Brown, Flat Shoes, Footprints, Dress for The Weather, So Awesome, 24 Hours, Divine Mate, Timeflyby, Set U Free, Gone, Missin’ You, Wishin’, The Taliban, Disqualified, Two Minute Sista, Wind Blow, Over Here, are all titles to songs on the newly released Organic Soul CD that i encourage everyone to obtain by any means necessary.