Hours in Volumes

From Art of Mind: Philosopoems to the World
Available Now: http://www.amazon.com/Art-Mind-Original-Clyde-Aidoo/dp/0615429777/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1388603246&sr=8-1&keywords=Clyde+Aidoo

*Hours in Volumes*

Days shouldn’t feel this empty.
Sealing capsules without substance lowers already knocked off pedals of will —
halting locomotive chains that were
barely moving anyway.
I’m still expected to approve the dross and waste of a full 24 hour rotation,
and send it out as if completed, and as if ready to begin anew the following day.
How can I? How can one be satisfied with a malfunctioning vacuum of winnowed pieces
that cannot be out-placed?
A Day’s Quality has managed to evaporate once more,
so I must now settle for a quantitative mass-producing of
Hours in Volumes.
Deep-Sixed Ticks rise from a deserted grave
and I succumb to its strangle, until my body
slumbers,
but No —
I Will Not Rest.

 

©2012. Original Clyde Aidoo. All Rights Reserved.
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Etched

From Art of Mind II: All In
Available Now: http://www.amazon.com/Art-Mind-II-All-In/dp/0615547028/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1388603246&sr=8-2&keywords=Clyde+Aidoo

*Etched*

It takes more than ink to be etched
into stone. To be engraved one must be graved —
Even if not gravely missed. Though one’s demise alone isn’t
the surest way to rise, rather one must simply be really, really old.
To be centuries older than the oldest man alive is the surest way to stay alive.
Indeed a measure of greatness is to continue to stand above all upright feet with no detectable contender amongst the millions of weary contestants. Or is it just a sign of the times? Not these times — those times. Times where you could write your own ticket to immortality while you were still alive. And when you did die? Well, your verse wouldn’t go rotten, because their archaic language ages like fine wine while
I’m
Sippin’ on this forty ounce,
Seems we’re standing on the corner as
The same names are re-announced.
Shakespeare was a baaadd dude but he can’t be Badder than Michael,
Wordsworth’s words couldn’t hit harder than Ali,
Sweet Emily wasn’t more loveable than Lucy…
And while none of the latter names are replaceable, seems they are quite comparable:
Ushers are put on the same stage as Michael,
Tyson takes a bite out of Ali’s Greatness,
And Lucy’s tenured rule seems overshadowed by Shows about Nothing and Reality TV — not to be confused.
It seems that only moving images can budge the wheels of time, while those with pens are etched in stone. But it does take more than ink to be etched in stone. It takes timing. Seems we’re hundreds of years off.
Maybe the revered names of yester-century will remain unchallenged because they’re so much more talented than I will ever be.

Fair enough.

But if I don’t speak to the nation, then I know Somebody has to.
Someone who writes for the people and not a false sense of belonging amongst the kitsch niche with hollow awards and fustian circles that won’t let the world in.
There has to be Someone only writing and not rapping who is worth enough to have his wallet read, “Bad Mother Fucker.”
If you want to reign over shelves today you have to be a “King,”
Alongside maybe a couple “Pattersons” or “Robertses….” but hey at least they’re today…
But that’s just fiction. Where does that leave us with the trippy talk?
Can one of us be the next Shakespeare? Or is that just poppycock?
No one is above comparison,
No matter how important,
Some even say Kobe is the Greatest,
Though Clearly he’s no Jordan.
Seems if you really want to be remembered, you should stay in school after-all. Learn how to write your hearts out, because as long as you’re on screen, the channel will eventually change.
If you want to be the best for decades and centuries to come without being contested by names of today or even a few years back,
Just jot ten timeless poems or so…
There’s only just One Catch:

It must be a Billion Years Ago.

 

©2012. Original Clyde Aidoo. All Rights Reserved.
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You’re No Ted Danson…Keep Waiting by the Door

From Art of Mind II: All In
Available Now: http://www.amazon.com/Art-Mind-II-All-In/dp/0615547028/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1388603246&sr=8-2&keywords=Clyde+Aidoo

*You’re No Ted Danson…Keep Waiting by the Door*

It’s good your
Inspiration
Is so widely-known,
If inspired by fiction or a no one —
That could land you in a padded home.

So I hope you get
three
Cheers,
And lots of fortune and fame,
In order to inspire the world —
“Everybody must know your name.”

 

©2012. Original Clyde Aidoo. All Rights Reserved.
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Unsung

From Art of Mind II: All In
Available Now: http://www.amazon.com/Art-Mind-II-All-In/dp/0615547028/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1388603246&sr=8-2&keywords=Clyde+Aidoo

*Unsung*

It’s sad how narrow a voice can travel,
Even with the Range of a Soprano —
Just because so many doors are closed.

There’s only room for so many Divas…
You can belt your heart out and shatter glasses
but you cannot crack Ear-Muffs…
You’re a superstar blending with the rest of the masses,
It seems that’s just tough luck.

There’s a voice as pure as Norah’s,
With a pitch that cannot be made clearer…
Yes, Somewhere — there is Someone Singing:
And No One is around to hear her.

 

©2012. Original Clyde Aidoo. All Rights Reserved.
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Posted in Music, Poetry

The Look of Love

Look of Love

*The Look of Love*

She’s dining in the company of a very lucky gentleman — who is currently not in attendance.
She’s dining in the memory of a fine, distinguished gentleman —
Who is privileged to be this lady’s companion.

They have entered Le Dîneur d’lAmour
In spite of their Reservations.
Now, as she awaits her beaux,
She’s already dining for two.

Patrons and Couples notice this Damsel sitting by herself…and it may seem that she is alone…
Do not be fooled by an empty seat:
A Woman Like This is Never Alone.

She has eyes that sparkle like crystal chandeliers,
A mane of luscious curls that dangle with her pale green rings,
Succulent lips that speak of excursions to Paris —
With a silent expression that’s sealed with a kiss.

Messieurs,

Set aside your menus for a moment,
And Feast Your Eyes on a Dish.

Overindulgence will blind you from her beauty, as deep pain is felt from staring at a radiance of this volume for a prolonged span…and before your date becomes wise to his or her own deficiency — It’s best that you look away.

After all, she only has eyes for one.
And as she awaits his arrival —
It’s plain to see that he is already with her.

His presence is written all over her face;
It reads: “Le Regard d’lAmour.”
And when he finally arrives…
He will be seated by the
Maitre d’,
and greeted by the
Look of Love.

Painted by Dian Bernardo

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All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material that appears here or has appeared here without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. All material is covered by international intellectual property laws. Failure to comply with this will be taken as copyright infringement and plagiarism and acted upon with all and full legal means. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Clyde Aidoo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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A Salesman’s Omission

*A Salesman’s Omission*

“Go out and Live!”
Exclaims the world!
They sell the notion of
Living Every Day
Like it’s the last
and to not let a single minute
Be lost.
With a drowsy eye
and a wavering head —
I sit up in my bed,
and skeptically ask:

“How much does that cost?”

 

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All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material that appears here or has appeared here without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. All material is covered by international intellectual property laws. Failure to comply with this will be taken as copyright infringement and plagiarism and acted upon with all and full legal means. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Clyde Aidoo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Hours in Volumes

*Hours in Volumes*

Days shouldn’t feel this empty.
Sealing capsules without substance lowers already knocked off pedals of will —
halting locomotive chains that were
barely moving anyway.
I’m still expected to approve the dross and waste of a full 24 hour rotation,
and send it out as if completed, and as if ready to begin anew the following day.
How can I? How can one be satisfied with a malfunctioning vacuum of winnowed pieces
that cannot be out-placed?
A Day’s Quality has managed to evaporate once more,
so I must now settle for a quantitative mass-producing of
Hours in Volumes.
Deep-Sixed Ticks rise from a deserted grave
and I succumb to its strangle, until my body
slumbers,
but No —
I Will Not Rest.

 

Feel free to reblog or share the link, all with proper credit given to author.
All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material that appears here or has appeared here without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. All material is covered by international intellectual property laws. Failure to comply with this will be taken as copyright infringement and plagiarism and acted upon with all and full legal means. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Clyde Aidoo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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©2012. Original Clyde Aidoo. All Rights Reserved.

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Blues Queen

Blues Queen

 
*Blues Queen*

She finally made it back to Birdland.
It feels like just yesterday she was here in New York City, spray-painting this bitter, hateful earth with the blues. Now she is on Heaven’s replica stage being backed up by the greatest bluesmen that have ever lived accompanying her commanding voice as respective maestros of the
Sweet sax,
Trumpet,
Drums,
A pair of trombones and a double bass:
What a Difference a Day Made.

Oh she’s still got it. It feels like Radio City here in the clouds…with flashy lights beaming down on the messengers of song. The stage is overflowing with music and taking center stage is the very physical and spiritual representation of the Blues. She stands before the audience oozing blue, it’s wrapped around her skin, and from her soul it pours from her pores…the moment she begins to roar.

She is the Blues.

With clenched fists and an open heart — she Rules the microphone…
Victoria and Elizabeth can have their jurisdiction…
But on this stage there is but only
One Queen.

I present to you:
The Queen of Blues.
All Hail.

Painted by John Penney

 

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All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material that appears here or has appeared here without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. All material is covered by international intellectual property laws. Failure to comply with this will be taken as copyright infringement and plagiarism and acted upon with all and full legal means. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Clyde Aidoo with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Check out the Kirkus review for Art of Mind III!

AOM III

https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/original-clyde-aidoo/art-of-mind-iii/

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