Joe Kidd (1952) is a musician and poet from Michigan, US. With his constant companion and partner, Sheila Burke, they have written, recorded, and performed their multi-award winning music across North America and Western Europe. They have been recognized by fellow artists as well as the Michigan Governor's office and the United States Congress for their work as activists for Peace, Social Justice, and Cultural Diversity. Kidd has published his book of poetry and illustrations "The Invisible Waterhole", US, 2020.
Everything Is Political
everything is political
everything is music
we've already determined those truths
there's nothing... and then there's political music
but nothing is political music too
there are those stretching as far as they can reach
to save a body falling
but we all bounce when we hit the floor of hell
it's like that
dogs and ducks chase us when we smoke
when we are on fire
people run
to water
to make movies of people on fire
the tall people here
the ones that stand strong against the wind
are spinning
taking showers
dropping their jewelry in the street
for the rest of us to press into bookmarks
I pet their fur
paint their underground toes with lipstick
they like to listen to political music
harmonicas covered with lipstick
Christmas In Purgatory
might it well be done tonight
a minutiae or a millennium
oh what time, what pain has passed
what day, what dot, what, what
I dare not pray for mercy, nor for a gift of love
knees bent, I cross my breast for those I have inflamed
my eye does not see my hand, my hand cannot find my heart
endlessly I move directionless, through caverns, through fires, through you
all
keeping the company, the consequence, the burden, of a time alive
now buried deep within the hollow earth, the frozen border of hell itself
no flesh, no bones, no voice with which to carry or cry
perhaps for an instant if I may break through
perhaps you may read these words' intention
that come to you from an unimagined realm
a population of one plus one million
if so, then I am not forgotten
a soul alone in desolation
Saint Valentine's Pearl
of adulation and appeal
two hands as one hold the glowing globe
here is life, a new creation
the tasteless joy of those who turn
again to a world barren and surreal
here are the bricks stacked one upon another
a fortress, a castle engulfed in ice
footprints tracked across a beating chamber
as a river circulating, carries the promise
to a place where your aura cannot be depressed
say something, anything
there is truth in words that abolish sorrow
three together, you and I
understanding what is and what ever shall be
we have seen it growing before our eyes
no beginning, no end, no history
this heart, this earth, this fertile garden
here is the calm, without the storm
a choice, a freedom exercised
a world of miracles in a long embrace
an atmosphere of common breath
clean and fresh, a bouquet of colors
our table a blessed banquet to share
the moon is our guardian, full and bright
this flesh, a home for our spirits tonight
beauty a gift, the seraphim chorus
each kiss, a communion on the steps of the temple
a drink from the fountain, eternal and pure
Travelogue
speaking of traveling
not of moving to destinations
but of eyes roaming hidden landscapes
tongues opening whispered passageways
continent drifting
to a rolling rhythm
blood moon cutting a super path
above a molten cascade formed deep within
traveling among the hearts of elders
thinking back to a day when today was the anxious future
human, human, human, I am here, look for me
seek my voice and the aroma of my love
travel with me to the invisible world
closer, closer, you are too far away
travel inside of me
find the seat of my existence
find the heat of my desire
warm yourself there
where time is measured in heartbeats and caresses
it is given
it is received
travel this imaginary space
filled with light and possibilities
close your eyes and drive this vehicle
into that which all holy men have sought
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