he looks up, she looks up to him
Three year old hands thump to a rhythm
Small feet dance hard to a song
She cries inconsolably to sing to the clean version
Memorizing lines to exhaustion
She will recite tomorrow
even if it kills her
Cameras flash as a skirt twirls
Singing and dancing is for elementary school
Teens are pushed into a crowded science train
Piano lessons and dance classes
pile up on a heap of broken promises
The geography teacher talks
Contours and fault lines move above her head
while her foot thumps to the staccato of his voice
She would like to fold away her dark life like a carpet
Grandmaster Jay’s eyes say no
He keeps a vigilant watch from her wall
Sniggers rudely burst out into laughter
The mic grows cold and heavy
Her big toes look away and face each other
Her lunch wants to return to her mouth
A voice is raised for Grandmaster Jay
A young rhythm evokes loud screams
Light footed dancing creates mania
Twenty five year old words
form lines that draw tears
Hands are raised to the new sound
She raises her eyes to the face in the sky
And sings the song of heaven
To the new world that she has made
BT
I don’t know who you are but I am so amazed by your work. I am honored.
The Legendary Grandmaster Jay
What a privilege to hear from you (tho I fear it may be a hoax). As I became a poet I really got into rap – I have wild fantasies of being a rapper!. I have read about you and love your name (sorry for all the shenanigans around it). Thats how I thought to make you the role model of the young artist in my poem – who stood little chance and was giving up on life. What do you do these days?