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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem