Generic

his poem is a signal 
smoked from a dream 
a twisting fog cloud 
disguised as grey steam, 
or a wisp of wisdom puffed between 
poet and crowd. 
in aid is the caress 
amid strand metal and skin. 
the brush offers flavoured momentum 
within, to conjure the simmering 
primal spin - aloud. with drummer's head bowed 
and breathing inspiration from the Beat Poet's sound. 
the bass is plucked with courage filled rage, 
hushed animation impelling fiddle and blade 
yet with respect for the Legends of Old, 
reverent yet bold. this suited beatnik, 
with eyes closed - beholds the vibe 
taking mold. 
those standing in shadows 
are poets of the streets. 
the performance coats 
from bandana to feet 
as they smolder 
with the rap, 
the steam, 
the heat 
of the dreaming 
Beat Poet's 
beat.