Shadows of the moon
Moonlight playing the 7 veiled striptease with my eyes
Skies lit by stars or maybe it’s the lamps & cars
Bars leaking “I have a woman” floorboards creaking
I hear George screaming, black velvet’s piercing
“Georgia on my mind” the octaves are flatly streaming
Open my eyes to see shadows not the moonlight beaming
Colourless moon powder vacuumed to bring forth relief
Belief on the moon powder its light jiggles my knees
Released hostages from major then minor coyly speaks
To live in LA can be clinical when old habits were the issue
Sieve the moon powder, hide it in a tissue fans miss you
What should I do, “I’m moving on” to a “Lonely avenue”
Sunset boulevard isn’t a dream when the sunsets unseen
A blessing it’s been because melodies are my means
To see “America the Beautiful” is to not see it at all
But to listen to the wind’s conversation with the shores
Making mistakes perhaps the moon powder aimed me
It never tamed me I felt that emotions claimed me
Then my acutely powdered liver maimed me…..
Tears dropping selflessly from families attributing blues to Ray
Rustling chimes form opulent orchestras; a ballad in the breeze
Day of mourning was replaced by celebrating Ray’s motion play
Ray watches on, a soul shadowing the moon in watchful peace
"It would be a real bitch if I ever lost my hearing.
I know I couldn't be no Helen Keller.
That would be worse than death." - Ray Charles, Esquire, August 2003
Hope you can hear the rounds of claps
-RIP Ray Charles Robinson, 1930-2004….
He saw what we missed; now we miss what he saw…