POEM OF THE MONTH, January 2007 | Print |  E-mail
Written by Joe Navarro   
Monday, 01 January 2007

The Hardest Working Man in Show Business
(In memory of James Brown)

The day James Brown died
A legacy stopped beating.
The frenetic slides and grooves
That make your toes tap and
Head bob, took a break.
The groove-maker, Godfather
Of Soul, the Hardest Working
Man in Show Business
Had a funky good time, until
Time ran out. He let us
Know that Papa's got a
Brand new bag... makin' it funky!
Funk was the inspiration for
A whole new designation.
And survived in a nation
Lost in a disco sensation, a
Quick detour in music degradation.
Say it loud! I'm Black and I'm proud!
Gave every hue of
Hue-man/hue-woman-kind
Permission to be proud and
Say it loud, from every street
Corner to every dance floor.
Got us all moving to a groove.
Toe tapping, heart thumping, and
Booty bumping, if you know
What I mean. Ask George
Funkenstein Clinton, he can
Qualify and satisfy your funky
Notion. What an emotion!
James Brown, everybody!
James Brown! The eighth
Wonder of the world!
From Augusta GA, crossed
The Jim Crow segregation line
With a beat so powerful that
It ruptured the hemorrhoids
Of uptight America.
Everywhere is War, Tower of
Power, Earth Wind & Fire,
Ohio Players, Funkadelic and
Parliament funkin‚ in the
Tradition of James Brown!
Give me a beat!
That music in the background
Of hip-hop and rap sounds like
James Brown too.
Yeah, I got the feeling
And I know that when
I listen to James Brown--
Through the wailing horns,
The drum beats, the screams
And yells--I know that
I'm gonna have a funky good
Time and my soul will be
Blessed!
 
Copyright 2006
 
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