Archive | December, 2015

Blues Bar

19 Dec

by Stella De Genova

Take away the blues with the blues

Give me some wailin’ sax, some screamin’ harmonica

Let’s hear some grinding guitar and the 1, 2, 3, 4 beat.

Sing about lost money, bad women and good whiskey.

 

To walk down the same Chicago streets they did

And bear witness to the nightly reincarnation

of Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters,

Howlin’ Wolf and Junior Wells.

 

The rhythms stir up images of the originals,

The heartbreaking sound of 3 o’Clock Blues

The foot-stomping Hoochie Coochie Man,

Somebody help me cuz I can’t help myself

 

The old singing the new, the new singing the old

The music and the words are timeless

The ghosts in the room lift my spirits

and won’t let me forget, we all got the blues and it feels good.

Listen to Merry Christmas, Baby by Charles Brown

To all of our readers and writers, I’d like to say thank you for your support of the spirit and content of Vision Through Words. I wish you love & peace in this Holiday Season and a very Happy & Healthy New Year! Very Sincerely, Stella.

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The Darkness Encroaches

7 Dec

by T. Easton

Shadows cloud my vision and the darkness encroaches

Unceasing it draws closer robbing me of my hope and dreams

They say fear not for fear has no place in this arena

But do I dare not be afraid faced with such a circumstance?

Do I dare not be dismayed by what my future is to bring?

 

So I stand and pretend to boldly accept my fate

And walk with my hands out in front of my face

I’ve known sorrow before and will undoubtedly again

Yet why do I feel like I’m alone in this fight?

As I struggle to cling to every glimmer of light

 

And still darkness encroaches with disregard for my plans

Rendored helpless as I trip, stumble, fall, and then stand

My head has the evidence of the darkness with which I contend

My shins remind me of the harsh circumstance that I am in

 

So I reach for protection from this indelible cause

And again it evades me as if a whisper in the wind

Lest you should judge me for my trepidation to go

Just remember the truth is that no one truly comprehends

Unless he forges through the darkness in an effort to fight

And weary he reaches the wall of hope and relief

Flipping the switch to find that there is no light.

 

Toby T. Easton was born and raised in Detroit, MI where he lived in a government subsidized housing project. After completing graduate school, he relocated to Raleigh, NC where he currently resides. Toby is a freelance writer and poet. He also works in the mental healthcare field as a licensed therapist. Toby decided to become a therapist in order to satiate his desire to help others discover a means by which they can transform tragic life circumstances into moments of beauty. Toby’s poetry often reflects his experiences with drug and alcohol addiction, physical abuse, and neglect; as well as a long and arduous struggle to rebuild his life after going blind from RP.