Ancient Skins

E. Amato

since 2005

writer, performance poet, filmmaker, director, producer

Recent articles (2 total)

Published: December 30, 2006

Pounding ancient skins,
fathering ecstatic sound.
Smile like a doorway to Bliss,
spunky dreads dance around
white linen
Clean,
crisply falling over

silver-ringed hands that
snatch rhythm off the
Curve of a
sweet & pungent riff.

The way you ride the horse, baby
you make your best friend laugh!
Baby, you ride that horse like
you were created this minute!
But are you stingy? No...ah-ah.

You let the trumpet ride your horse
loà
You let the saxophone ride your horse
loà
Let the Fender Rhodes ride your horse
loà
You let the funky bass ride your horse
loà

Can I ride your horse, baby?
Ride that expansive grin to ecstasy?
Drive that crazy train?

I know what you got under there, but
Now that I see what you use it for —
now that I've witnessed your Regal self,
your calling, your pride,
your talent, your strength
your in-ten-city —
now that I've seen
your sparkling soul
your glee, your joy
your ex-ta-see

Now I want to taste it,
loà
I want to taste it

Entrain me,
guedé
Entrain me

In ceremony
loà

Ride my body;
lift my spirit
til the beat of my heartblood
Rides the melody of my s-s-s-soul...
til the gods enter
& claim what they own
&
your best friend still laughing
Watching
& we all get our turn
to ride to be ridden
all the way to knowledge.

All the Way to Knowledge.