THE MASTER

 There is a skinny black man up on stage

He’s mesmerizing the minds of many

Riffing his guitar with a fiery rage

He thinks rock and roll’s a fucked up phase

And his vision has him kissing the sky

As he wails out a song called purple haze

His experimentation explodes like fires

He becomes less and less inhibited

And his ideas reach new heights of desires

His limitations just don’t exist

His guitar is, in essence, his soul

Much like a lover he just can’t resist

Now his view of the world is depressing

Yet his songs bring out frightening truth

And his wizardry in truth is impressing

His sound is not like all the rest

It’s a fantasy that boggles the brain

And it’s impossible to duplicate the best

So while many try and fail the feat

Sit back and join him, in spirit, to

“Watch the sun rise from the bottom of the sea”

in memory of James Marshall Hendrix

(November 27, 194-September 18,1970)