Our Song

Music is a religious experience
every morning
listen to the word of God
you can speak back

Poetry is the melody
the instruments bring the rhythm
momentum
a chance to join the trance

Ecstatic is the natural state
of the universe
get involved
find your part in this composition

Some only take the time to listen
others shout into the distance
both are needed
for the masterpiece performance

Poem as a letter to a friend on Veterans Day

Jermey,

Brother, I miss ya, Happy Veterans Day, what can I say, but Agape Namaste,
Austin’s temperature I’m pretty sure is about to freeze, thank you for serving our country
Honestly, you even taught me how to shoot weaponry properly
Remember our days and nights at Rock Springs camping?
How is job hunting? I know you will find something soon my friend
You are a giver of all your passion,
It’s hard to find people who don’t complain, I’ve asked around for them
Brother from a different mother, family from different Children
When do you plan to start the garden and the farm building?
I am working for a company living with my family
trying to find a little honey for a sweet afternoon delight of snacking
I even started running and excercising
writing poetry and yes, still rhyming 😉
I write mostly for the individual audience and it makes sense
because they (like you) understand the intent and it gets in tents (intense)
like camping on the top of a hill next to a fence
I missed your birthday so I included a little present
I would send a little bud, but I am convinced even the mail is bugged
much love and all above
your friend, John Tabrizi

PS – A blue ninja was once ranked the warrior with the most valor
Once said to have the strength of the hardest worker and knowledge like the highest scholar

The river at night

The cold river water
was talked about in the garden’s veranda
always in memories and thoughts
every morning kind of ritual
the river’s history continues

^^^^^^^^^^ to be translated as homework
tomorrow is work
but before we search through the wild rice for wild life
stretching, walking, talking the rhythm of approaching light
the sun beams remind us of the tree tops, trunks, and roots

beneath our boots we found our souls
the sounds that our town holds brings treasure
every measure is weighed to its adventure
the buttons we press, buttons pressed upon us
the sure answers of intuition in spontaneous invention

the fourth dimension is time
so our rhymes contort reports of front line fort confines
fun for the shrine to reorganize, stump counting lines
as the birds chirp wise words from the curbs of banisters we would climb
sublime founds its better half
vines with grapes (that because of water) are shinier than glass
over spilling empty
the factory found its calling in a flow
natural
and always exciting
as the first picked vegetable

 

 

How we get back in the studio

Back in the studio
making tracks of raps over scrap instrumentals
the info comes from the slums like a daily news reporter
the front line warriors, people champions
bring the title to us again
rhyming orators
mind’s of a different kind of a performer
the times is fine to leave the grips
of champagne, wine and porters to our lips
giving cheer in another day that exists

Back to the studio
the dojo is the place of the way
attacking the ranks and taste of what we say everyday
to better understand the letters left unused
like contraband planted in the hand of a man
who knows the show is being viewed
and still spends his will & skills on writing the meters.
Of our social, economic and cultural leaders
which should we follow?
the Political sides switch propaganda
trivial becomes larger
reading/writing becomes pivotal for the character
to learn the unattainable experience we got in a plot
the system shock, of a culture and future
that only speeds on leading faster to a limitless top

Hop, skip, jump, run, and walk back to the studio
Hip Hop tricks we dumped upon, anyone willing to talk this lingo
stopping only to recharge before we go Sargent.
Ben wrote the funny cartoons in the paper as our Captain
The Statesman’s tape was shaped by master craftsmen & women
balance is the intent
until battling against intense nonsense
in an uphill fashion with fences.
Good thing we brought wire cutters
the neighborhood watched a movie about the river. at the river. together
We call it church for what’s it worth,
Whenever do you all want to play with dirt?