Two rivers converged in a field of green
Entering one side I started to wade
I must go far upstream
To realize my glorious dream
While the heat of the summer day evade

I ripped the arrows from my quiver
When I came upon a raft to row
Couldn’t take a chance in the river
To drop an arrow from some shiver
Sharp arrows always a raft’s foe

The wind was cool and clean
Sol kissed the water with a smile
But up ahead dancing a beguine
A grizzly bear hungry and mean
This may very well be my last mile

I miss those little arrows from my quiver
But away they sail so I could row
To God’s throne they float down river
Ignoring my frantic screams they won’t come hither
I miss them now more than they could know

Donnie Bryson
1/19/13

The Ox, the Child, and the Promise of Ahman Deux

Still child with a bloody pour
Thunder clap and voice roar
From the throne it rings evermore
“You knew the ox would gore”

I have a promise from King Ahman Deux
“Never bind these oxen to subdue”
Yet the ground prays from a bloody pour
“You knew an would gore”

I winked and ignored my oxen
So my ship really has no coxswain
Still a thunderclap and a voice roar
“You knew some ox would gore”

A bloody pond prays from the ground
Cry of unkissed mother’s kiss its sound
Thundering as loud as the thunderclap roar
“You all knew an ox would gore”

— Donnie Bryson

Take me back God, I want to wash clean my dull ears
By the banks of the mighty Billy Taylor
Polyrhythmic suspensions and Baroque ragtime
Not the simple hip song heard by boxed Norman Mailer
But sublime substitutions mixed with old Viennese tears

Please God, take me back to the banks of that mighty Billy Taylor
Let me bob my head and roll back the flowing years
Watching the work of some random passing sailor
Mystically synced with my unseen trap set playing only for my ears

Please God, take me back
I want to dip once again
Beside those flowing banks
Of the mighty Billy Taylor

— Donnie Bryson after hearing jazz great, Dr Billy Taylor, passed late 2010.