i go to work

i go to work
some days i flow
like the first
kiss of spring sun
or an untouched creek
i’m gentle, cool and smile
’cause God is there
and you my dear, always
you my dear
but on other days, i rage
in the night
a cry of pain, of cold, of heat lost
but i play it cool
cool like a glass of ice
cool like winter in the south
and cool, like i don’t

i go to work
and make it flow
and let it cool
cause that’s what God expects
and i type, and weep, in silence
you write my song, my dear, and it’s
you, always you,
for whom i type,
eyes closed, i write your
words, sing the softness
of your strength, only soft for me
you say, as i am only hot for you
and you know,
what magic soft and hot can make

like the flow of a lava-sunday
morning love session
when you clutch our satin sheets
and arch to me, like
when you grab my head
and lose your own
right before … right then…
just then … baby, when

i go to work
and make it flow and
they never know, do they
baby? they never
feel it from me, do they
so i just, you know,
i play it cool
cool like fritz the
cat cause they
don’t know fritz
cool like a marvin gaye
cool like “t” and it rhymes with
me, cause i play it cool
so they won’t know
baby but you do
you know the saxophonic heat
playing in my gravelly voice or
like a miles davis broken bell
it sings the soundtrack to my burden

my God has left me
a road map with no destination
instead, in bold letters
instructions saying,

“my son
go to work
and make it flow, child
and I gave you more burdens
than them because
you got more work to do
and you know, child
how lazy you gets
so pick up the pen in your
wrong hand and
go to work and
tell them of the days you spent
in a crowd of
no one there
the lion manchild
in a little boy shell
all crunchy nougat and
no sweet inside”

so i go to work,
to make it flow
and let it cool
like the pacific, cool
cool like ike cool
cool like ray letting it do
what it do cool
so cool yo mama
wears her back hair
as a fur coat, cool
too cool, that kinda cool
cool like
you know, you
know you know you like
it bitch
kinda cool
and your mama did too

i go to work
and make it flow
cause it don’t have to rhyme
cause life ain’t a damn poem
life from the bottom
always looks like everywhere
you go is up
and the view from the back
of the pack
is always the same
and smells a lot like ass
so up, i rise,
up, i rise,
and up i rise and
up i rise and
up i rise
i always rise
because i’ll be
damned if the
enemy will win

see my God
this song
just a one note song
in my left ear
with a stingy melody
and a funky ass backbeat
and God whispered,

“go to work
and win, my child,
and win.”

14 thoughts on “i go to work

  1. Bob Mills says:

    I read this earlier and tried to post a comment but it was not having any of it! This for me, brought many emotions and memories which I thought had long gone, surging forward into my consciousness!
    It is difficult to explain to you, but it’s to do with stuff that I still can’t forgive myself for.
    Regretted decisions and stuff? Somehow I just know you will understand what I am on about my friend?….thought provoking!

    1. Bill Jones, Jr. says:

      Thank you, Bob. I think I do understand. Sometimes, you make choices, and the result becomes just another burden to bear. But in the end, you must stand erect, and go to work – the work of just living.

          1. Bob Mills says:

            Start looking after your own needs Bill….from what I have been reading, you have a lot of people who value your insight, words and sincerity.
            However, the fact you are completely bonkers, can only be deemed a bonus?

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