Half Dreams

In half dreams of love I sweep off my days ,
Mend my drifting mind to memories of her ways 


And spend my tender summer nights unslept 
Upon the morn then I mourn ;promises unkept 


Love; such a straight thing crooked by bound
Impedes my every hour the guilt of lost sound


Fireballs that eat sky-dots on windless nights,
Furrow the lands of heaven in worried plights 




But I still sit awake on hills of my dreamy scape
Where I echo her smiles on the mills of death

My Blues

If you do me unright ,

I will not hate you quite,

For you got your rules

 I gotten  blues …

I will make a song about you

And sing it to morning  dew

And To whoever listens ..

that evening …

Swing, I will all on my own

By the corrals of dry foam

And startle all the folk

 with wet grasslands …

Over the mountains cream unfolds,

Where clouds dance in the cold

Serving only one purpose ,

For my Rains.

You still look down on me,

I  still sing up on to rim,

For you got your rules

 I gotten  blues ,

My people keep me aside ,

On the shoulder of the tide ,

Or I forget ocean of mind,

Forever…

So whats music to me?

Partly pain, partly freedom

Partly mundane, partly God-loom

Partly Love, never hate,

Partly soul, My friend,

often people, seldom me.

It used to be a cheap hobby,

Or a cheaper way to pose

Now its solvent of my soul.

I am basically a slave you see,

on contract with white bumblebee

And I am more black than white,

I guess you can see that clear,

If you have that sight.

Yes ,I am slave and thats right,

I sing the songs of slaves,

My Blues ,My Blues at Night.

No training Have I,

No theory I know  ,

No grammar I show,

No tricks I sow.

I have no use of rage,

And I may never have stage.

Yet I sing my song.

With Or without you,

Be it right or wrong.

Who cares?

I will drop into the grave

With same speed as rest of slaves.