Monday, March 10, 2008


I wanted to be a Blues Singer.
Telling my story of heart loss and pains deep.
Belting out notes so fine
-- touching and tickling ivories with smooth fingers.
Hollowing out the human condition with a voice that would make eyes weep.
Becoming the jazziest of the Jazz,
the bluest of the Blue.

I once saw Billy Holiday in my mind's eye.
I called her name in the pitch of night.
Later I found out that she died, and I cried.
I held it within my soul,
the absolutlessness of light,
fueling my Blues so I could reach that one song.

I did saw Sarah Vaughn riding before me,
horse and carriage and all.
And as she passed, I consumed her into my color.
I leaned ever so slight,
tilted my head and began singing my call.
That day
-- my Blues sored to a new splendor.
And I knew I would sing a Blue grander than any sky or sea.

So elegant a name Fitzgerald, my woman of class.
Timeless in reality, commanding in simplicity.
Sissin' and sassin' beatin' and a brassin'
this ever young lass
charmed the world and filled hearts to the Bluest of capacity.
If my Blues could ever have fun, Ella would teach me.
Today, like my Lady Day,
I sing all of my praise
inspiring everyone to feel what it is to feel.
Blessing the child.
Waiting for her penniless man for days,
I can't help but want to help her color of pain that is real.
To become that ultimate color;

I want that color.

I Want to Become the Color Blue by Shazza Nakim
Copyright © by Peace of Mind Publishings and with permission by Shazza Nakim

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