floots
mojo
mojo
i wear no jewellery
no
rings on my fingers
no
bells on my toes
(though i do have music wherever i go)
i
have no piercings
no
decorations
no
titillating ornamentations
(though i sometimes find such things appealing on others)
all i have is a mojo
many many long ago and faraway years from here
a friend was making a 3D collage
(even now i remember that as he worked we were listening to slim harpo’s king bee)
he was using a lot of square plastic pieces
of many colours
rejects or samples
(i never knew)
from
a local factory
perhaps they were rebels or refugees
fleeing the production line to find a haven in his art
anyway
these inch and a quarter squares
each had a hole in one corner
just waiting to be strung up
(ain’t we all)
colin i said
strange how writing his name brings back his face
that room
that sunny teenage afternoon
though i lost touch with him forty years ago
colin i said
you spare me one of these man
sure man help yourself
(we said man a lot in those days - truth is i still do)
i picked a square
a delicate jade green piece of synthetic geometry
and
he gave me an old leather bootlace
so i could hang it ‘round my neck
maybe it was instinctive
maybe we’d moved on to muddy waters*
but
from that high bright distant day on
it was my mojo
always wore it
(under my clothing - nothing ostentatious here)
i knew it was there
it was frowned at by a couple of radiologists
caressed en passant by more intimate acquaintances
but it was always there
still is in a sense
though
as in the old adage
something of a napoleon’s broom
the square
was replaced
firstly
by an intricate wooden trinket
then
by a carved head
at the request
of a friend
this head hung between our hearts for years
though it lost its chin in the process
perhaps in the passion of a sudden caress
(what matter - i will soon have chins enough for all)
the truth is
it stays the same mojo
a small part of me which remains important
(just like my mojo cries the music-hall comedian in my soul)
is it totem
badge
or
mere long-service medal
i make no claims
but
wear it for myself
another amulet
a charm on memory’s necklace
………………………..
Muddy Waters' number should you wish to see/hear it:
mojo
mojo
i wear no jewellery
no
rings on my fingers
no
bells on my toes
(though i do have music wherever i go)
i
have no piercings
no
decorations
no
titillating ornamentations
(though i sometimes find such things appealing on others)
all i have is a mojo
many many long ago and faraway years from here
a friend was making a 3D collage
(even now i remember that as he worked we were listening to slim harpo’s king bee)
he was using a lot of square plastic pieces
of many colours
rejects or samples
(i never knew)
from
a local factory
perhaps they were rebels or refugees
fleeing the production line to find a haven in his art
anyway
these inch and a quarter squares
each had a hole in one corner
just waiting to be strung up
(ain’t we all)
colin i said
strange how writing his name brings back his face
that room
that sunny teenage afternoon
though i lost touch with him forty years ago
colin i said
you spare me one of these man
sure man help yourself
(we said man a lot in those days - truth is i still do)
i picked a square
a delicate jade green piece of synthetic geometry
and
he gave me an old leather bootlace
so i could hang it ‘round my neck
maybe it was instinctive
maybe we’d moved on to muddy waters*
but
from that high bright distant day on
it was my mojo
always wore it
(under my clothing - nothing ostentatious here)
i knew it was there
it was frowned at by a couple of radiologists
caressed en passant by more intimate acquaintances
but it was always there
still is in a sense
though
as in the old adage
something of a napoleon’s broom
the square
was replaced
firstly
by an intricate wooden trinket
then
by a carved head
at the request
of a friend
this head hung between our hearts for years
though it lost its chin in the process
perhaps in the passion of a sudden caress
(what matter - i will soon have chins enough for all)
the truth is
it stays the same mojo
a small part of me which remains important
(just like my mojo cries the music-hall comedian in my soul)
is it totem
badge
or
mere long-service medal
i make no claims
but
wear it for myself
another amulet
a charm on memory’s necklace
………………………..
Muddy Waters' number should you wish to see/hear it: