The Voiceprints of Rhythm

You Can't Take Away Our Native Tongues

~A ghazal after Hip Hop

I.

Rapture reins the voice of the coolest breeze, seeking the rhythm;
on the verge of words left where they may fall, speaking in rhythm.

In maiden voyages of youthful expression, masters of
ceremony "bomb atomically," freaking the rhythm.

They deliver writes of passage manifested by the muse
of a righteous blues humming in the air, reeking of rhythm.

Behind every beat is an untold groove and each memory
a soundtrack with wax as the medium, tweaking the rhythm.

II.

Dear World, open your eyes to the sounds of aural graffiti
as you make one more trip 'round the sun 'fore sleeping in rhythm.

With ears of understanding, listen to new refutations
of vibration as if these words were art, reaping in rhythm.

This art, sparked by the sunflower sown in the music of the
spheres, is an interstellar cipher leaping in rhythm.

Caught up in the rapture of a world shadow is tomorrow
stepping through the door of the cosmos while keeping in rhythm.

III.

It's in people's instinctive travels on their paths, to exist
and just be, letting their passions run free, seeping with rhythm.

It is this kaleidoscopic vision of connect the dots
that makes music ubiquitously human, weeping with rhythm.

Universal is the language of my personal soundtrack
yet true to the rudiments of our loom, deep in the rhythm.

It is I, 21st Century Griot, who vamps in verse
as though it were my improvised solo, steeped in the rhythm.

Quote is from a verse by Inspectah Deck in the song entitled “Triumph” by Wu Tang Clan.

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