(sent by a friend of our mum. (leyls , rys)) a .. poem .. to an - TopicsExpress



          

(sent by a friend of our mum. (leyls , rys)) a .. poem .. to an earlier popular heavy grunge soul from Seattle. ------------------------------------- I dreamed about Jimi Hendrix He came back for one day Was born weepin out of an egg, the mid-wife said And straight away began to pray with lifted head He spent the early hours Communing with the morning stars And then he came over to my house Where he tried out my guitar He was young and black and beautiful Big eyed, perfect skinned And he played my guitar like a lightning storm Like twirlin feathers in the wind He could make it sound like the end of the world A fire, the flick of a knife He could squeeze it slow and masterful Like the hand that brought the world to life Together we strolled in sculptured gardens Passed the sleepy afternoon Maids were dartin back and forth From a window came a violin tune Angels dressed as nurses toyed with playin cards Looters sprung from prisons filled the yard A yellow sun hung low and yawned And as it dipped Jimi stood up straight Grinned and shook his velvet hips Callin himself King Electric In the evening he went wild Played on a dozen stages In the clubs of New York Lit the city end to end Wired it up, fired it up Scarved, bejeweled Long-legged, snake-limbed Athletic, driven, dangerous He made all Manhattan shake And every street and sidewalk quake His Stratocaster caused the mighty Empire State to vibrate His whammy bar caused shock-eyed punks from Hackensack and Yonkers Raised on speed, metal and rap To enter trance and levitate He played Purple Haze and Pyramid Voodoo child and Sin-E Up from the skies and storm free In King Tuts Wah Wah Hut He did a forty-two minute Cosmic rise in future shocks Star Spangled Banner In the back of CBGBs He stopped every clock in New York state And every heart that heard him And time itself was beaten and confused And fell lamblike under the spell of his fabulous flashing fingers He played an encore at the Bitter End A heart burst Little Wing Even the waiters cried and then we fell outside And in the dusty dawn of Bleecker Street A sweet rain fell and Jimi went
Posted on: Sat, 10 Jan 2015 18:16:31 +0000

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