Slickhead Rick vs. Sonny LeBain

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Greg Powell adds to the Mad Man Jams series about a sax duel

The Duet of Ra Man vs. Sonny LeBain I. Story’s been told In tales and song Of an Afro-Blue duel, Lasted all night long In a South Side spot, Royal women and men Romance and sex dance Sip cognac and fizzy gin Drunk dude in corner Blues is all he got Head tipping from tap Of a whisky shot Dashiki […]

Tales of the Funky Drummer

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Greg Powell writes Tales of the Funky Drummer

I’m not a master drummer I drum to the Master The master crafter push us through the disaster The beat gets up the asses of slackers Rappers pastors and gang banger blasters Beat the drum because the times is drastic My lyrics sparkle spastic lean and elastic Beat the drum fears melt like plastic Beat the drum and dance is […]

Midnight Calling

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Midnight Calling by Greg Powell for the Poetic Experience at Being Hueman

i hear in peace of sleeping winds in the dark stillness i hear hymn of the waters stormy waters wood hull creaking underneath snap of whips beat of blood dripping torrent of tears sky crying funereal moans spirits screaming beneath hull and from deep waters and I hear the call from distant east prayer shouts ancestral tongues beacon light touching […]

Proclamation Emancipation

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Proclamation Emancipation written by Poet-Author Greg Powell

Proclamation Emancipation Jah people gold people bold rebels of gold soulFreedom fighters, enterprisers, world civilizers,Healers, burning spear welders, pyramid builders,Love preachers, Spirit beseechers, world teachers,Birthing high culture in systems of mystery,Heartbeat of 10000 years history,My people bold people gold rebels of old soul,Arise I arrive bearing notions to make you whole,Wreak chains free brains/ behinds will follow,Heap of beats seep […]

Jon’s Song

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Greg Powell talks to about his son, Jonathan

Jon’s Song I’ve stared death in the face before; Yeah, I ain’t afraid to die, but when I get lowered in the ground, will you care enough to cry; Yeah, that’s a long time from now, but just cherish that I’m alive; when my parents are gone on, I’ll have tears all in my eyes. Old memories of my PaPa […]

Give Love to Life

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Give Love to Life, Love Lyrics, poetry written by Greg Powell for Being Hueman

Give Love to Life Give love to life. Let it linger In laughter and tears. Let our hands Labor to build joy outward From our bones. We’ll raise nations Of chosen people from peaceful womb. Sow seeds/ exhilarated sprouts of hope Swaying in every breath of God. Let love Compose our hearts song. Love is God’s breath Stretching our chests […]

Spiritual for Mama

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Poem by Greg Powell - Spiritual - for Mama

Spiritual for Mama keep your hand on the plow keep your hand on the plow don’t you bend nor ever bow though sack-loads of troubles beat on your brow and busy devils connive to cut you down set your feet in Jah solid ground don’t you ever bend nor bow keep your hand on the plow  keep your feet […]

Return to New York City

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Return to New York City, a poem by Greg Powell for Being Hueman

Return to New York City Wee hour flight out of night into past and future future and past Emotions commingling Return to New York City Decades of strata removed from the streets I ran From job to job late night on screaming graffiti gallery trains moving faster than light speed and slower than the grind of earth A wife, two […]

Dolores Marie Costa

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Dolores Marie Costa, a poem by Greg Powell

Dolores Marie Costa (Returning to NYC, July 2018) I don’t know you nor your ghost, the relic of your being buried like dinosaur bones of under traumatized ground touch Your name Like a spirit archaeologist Trying to find you But the stone is cold and ornate Maybe you are in the stream Of water descending into hole Square grave hole […]

Midnight in the War

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Mama and Midnight in the War Greg Powell

Midnight in the War Midnight in the war. automatic shots pop funereal percussion. No blood flow, yet. Just crazed metallic chatter from mouths of babes. and tear drops from torn sky. Daddy P labors into night pouring sweat and time into black hole of credit trap, leaving Mama nervous, spirit suspended over crossfire of the deceived. she getting old and […]