April 3: Prose Poem "Friend of Mine"

I bought this CD during my first Southern Fried
Summer of 2011
Some how, someway, but with some objection,
I drove up with Blu Bailey
From Orlando to the "A"

In her silver second generation Chrysler Sebring
Back when cars still carried CD rings
We rode north to find finer things and battle words

I didn't slam.

I just came for the experience
Took note of the culture and captured the emotions
Like trying to catch fireflies just to admire their light... even if they may dim & they might die

So I did,
Engulfed the smell of tension in the bouts, embrace the crowds' murmurs, accept the vibration from hands colliding together in victory or release

I tried to memorize the felling of that Georgia heat, seeking refuge in tree shades and small chypers of big thinkers
Oh! the joy of Waffle House intellectuals who customize their order, spoke of your origin and sipped on half and half and then some

I remember my summer refund checked drop, soooo I went balling at the Rainbow's on Peachtree street. Pulled up to the Southernfried Volunteer meeting late, with bags filled with clothes and trinkets and Walter Wally B. Jennings look at me CCRRRAAZZYY 🤣😅😂

Shoot I remember this homeless man who power washed Keith Rodgers's van in the middle of the night

I remember Blu introducing me to Bluz
And me finding joy in meeting one of my idols

I found myself in heaven as I explored Atlanta streets and community
And I believe it was at a record shop in Little Five Points that decided to buy a CD for what I did not realize would be the last time.

It was this one.

Lords know I was annoying but somehow, someway, Blu still allowed me to ride back home with her

I played this CD... and enjoyed every instrument and hmm from this live show while the southern landscape draped the background.

And once again, I inhaled the experience of hearing Bill Withers voice for the first time.

I Engulfed the smell of tension from his band on stage at Carnegie hall, embraced the audience's murmurs, accepted the vibration from hands colliding together in groove and much satisfaction.

At that moment I fell in love with bass strings, they strums my heart.
I Felt chills from rim shots and drum kicks
I found respect for blues, I understood samples... things started to make sense

Heart break, love, friends and family
Rode around all summer blasting this CD
Finding logic in lyrics and bass lines
Finding joy in blues, spoken word and memories

To All the people who guided me Through my poetry journey, you're a friend of mine.

RIP Bill Withers