Josephine DixonBanks

Rookie (Danbury, Connecticut)

The Glory Of The Blues

Poem by Josephine DixonBanks

The Blues, The voice of God crying out
The umbilical cord, source of all animation

The Blues is greater than the abyss
The holy creator of gut feelings

Somebody put God in the Blues and they started calling it, The Gospel

The Blues is so powerful, it’s androgynous
It reproduces in a single sex environment
Needs no permission, has all authority
Allows death to bring forth Life

There is no white light
Just a variation of black opaque midnight

The Blues is so bad it makes good and evil be friends

The Blues is the goodness of the soul
The soul must return to the Blues to be educated

The Blues is so brilliant
It’s magnitude is called The Light
The stars at night, is the Blues smiling

The Blues is enlightenment
The coming out of creation to be The Created

It is the image and likeness
The moving on the face of the water
The Blues gave blackness it’s hue

Life had no amber
The Blues, infused black bituminous essence, giving life it’s presence

The Blues, The Blues, The Soul of the The, Black Whole.

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Maya Angelou

Caged Bird



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Read poems about / on: evil, water, light, god, death, life, night, smile, star, friend



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 24, 2005