A Blues For Brooklyn

A blues for brooklyn...

Pardon my distraction because I'm from the Bronx & I push my borough representation to the max Ms. Brooklyn
how can a poet match a poet?...
both energies opposite and brilliant

Music... my words dance crazy rhythms creating beats of adventures in my head... adventuring with you Brooklyn... this Bronx girl is mapping out the beauty of your boroughs imagery

Searching for substance... be careful, I thought...
Be careful baby of that substance abuse
We see the crack heads lingering...but why aren't they called crack veins. They shoot it. cook it up. The city's finest chefs. From crystal to liquid. That would make them experienced scientists...

(we see the substance abuse)

Silly people let broken promises build their road of endless broken hearts... brooklyn I'm writing your blues.

Subway train lines-- I tapped my foot on the platform bopping under my headphones... The crate drummers, sleeping bums... Tired stroller carrying mothers... Ignorant young city kids... Middle class professionals... Manhattan executives... Underground newspaper stands... MTA announcers... Lost tourists...
I'm tapping my foot on the platform recreating shattered dreams. Reminding these hopeless romantics to shield their soul... Am I able to shield mine?

Focused...but thats internal. There is no verbal expression for it...
crossing bridges
speeding through narrow tunnels.
Focused on my Brooklyn travels
traveling through the blues of the muggy...
MUGGY CITY BLUES

Brooklyn... you own a confidence even my Bronx heart is captured by... attentive to your bounce... attentive to your poise... my perception of you elevated... damn Brooklyn!!

Wait... let me rep my borough
Yankee stadium's home
south bronx, north bronx... deh pon di jamaican side of town... Caribbean perhaps but my Jamaican roots leave me biased

Writing is power... A vision shared is a mission accomplished. Understood is the desired perfection
You are my unwritten visual goddess only aiming to achieve you and to be understood. I step to your borough loving with pure intention to equally dominate

I just want to write you... with my Zeta blue heart... I want to script the impossible of you... the blues of Brooklyn... Brooklyn blue. Navy to the soul. NYC you are me... Impoverished and so rich down to the soles of every shoe... My soul robbed of expression from my non-dancing shoes... Still Brooklyn I wouldn't miss the opportunity of our dance

Kick game crazy... fashion sense effortless and stunning... Recreation of design at its undiluted predication... The finest... Fabrics of beauty; photomontage

You are CD player, Walkman vintage, and fresh to me Ms Brooklyn

NYC home of dominant natures and skyscraper personalities matching every monument and architecture

Brooklyn women are my pink matter... captivated by their finest curves... accented diction... attitudes of a cocky "boss"... soft spots like rose petals... culture like the finest melting pot cuisine... desires like the poorest souls reaching for the simplicity of joy... knowledge refilling my half empty glass constantly yearning more never quite full... my appetite for you Brooklyn women have me singing the deepest soulful blues... take me back to 1970 when we danced with decency so I can shuffle my feet with yours and palm the small of your back in my quiet spin throughout this illuminated room

whistling along to my soul's harmonica.

digital renaissance
Collaged... Pic after pic after pic
Even my simple subway transit expeditions polaroid history with you
Subway fitness workouts
Squeezing in the petite spaces
I just have to share this seat next to you! (Quietly stated with emphasis)
queer
Queer and engaged into you
Squeezing into your blue
Brooklyn I've painted my heart navy
Your historic modern technosapien character has stolen my infatuation
Falling in love with your every structure
Reconstructing this Brooklyn bridge
Looking to bridge us closer
Walking the miles
Floating into your every word
Watching your tongue form the hypothesis of genius
You are education shared even amongst the sagged jeans to the fitted skinnys

Be careful Brooklyn as the Bronx me will strip those jeans while appreciating your voyages ... Mental kisses from the hips thighs legs and feet
Flatbush East NY Canarsie travels
All graciously appreciated

Hard "b's" when we speak
FDR swerving ... Professional NASCAR driving to attack your belts parkway

Wink

Brooklyn you left me singing tunes
My freshman undergraduate love
Caribbean princess
Torn was my safety net
I fell into you like a saxophones bliss
You strummed every note I needed to hear with heavenly strokes
I played my Bronx violin to your tune

Strum strum strum

Halted my musical journey
Eternal pause
5am missing you Brooklyn
Tears that nursed me into the deep rem sleep
My only escape became internal
I lost a smile galaxies wide
Felt like all fallacies when I chased my memory for that smile that became marble minuscule

Crooning your memory Brooklyn
My old jazz fashioned blue
Fading to black

Addicted and substance abusing the high of you
Veins filled... You were the life in me

Harmonica and cello tunes
My Melancholy genre
Pulling ... Sanity return from my toxic addiction.
I'm lost in the wrong borough
*open subway map app*

I
AM
...

Blues-ing for Brooklyn