Loveletter to p1999

[Truheart]

Shout Out

Shout Out – Sekou Sundiata



Here's to the best words
In the right place
At the perfect time
To the human mind blown-up
And refined.

To long conversations and the Philosophical ramifications Of a beautiful day.

To the twelve-steppers
At the thirteenth step,
May they never forget
The first step.

To the increase, to the decrease
To the do, to the do
To the did to the did
To the do to the did
To the done done
To the lonely.
To the brokenhearted.
To the new, blue haiku.

Here's to all or nothing at all.

Here's to the sick, and the shut-in.

Here's to the was you been to the is you in,
To what's deep and deep to what's down and down
To the lost, and the blind, and the almost found.

To the crazy
The lazy
The bored
The ignored
The beginners
The sinners
The losers
The winners.

To the smooth
And the cool
And even to the fools.

Here's to your ex-best-friend.

To the rule-benders and the repeat offenders.

To the lovers and the troublers,
The engaging
The enraging
To the healers and the feelers
And the fixers and the tricksters,
To a star falling from a dream.

To a dream, when you know what it means.

To the bottom
To the root
To the base, uh, boom!
To the drum

Here's to the was you been to the is you in
To what's deep and deep to what's down and down
To the lost, and the blind, and the almost found.

Here's to somebody within the sound of your voice this morning.
Here's to somebody who can't be within the sound of your voice tonight.

To a low-cholesterol pig sandwich smothered in swine without the pork.

To a light buzz in your head
And a soundtrack in your mind
Going on and on and on and on and on like a good time.

Here's to promises that break by themselves,
Here's to the breaks with great promise.

To people who don't wait in the car when you tell them to wait in the car.

Here's to what you forgot and who you forgot.
Here's to the unforgettable.

Here's to the was you been to the is you in
To what's deep and deep to what's down and down
To the lost, and the blind, and the almost found.

Here's to the hip-hoppers
The don't stoppers
Heads nodding in the digital glow
Of their beloved studios.

To the incredible indelible impressions made by the gaze as you gaze in the faces of strangers.
To yourself you ask: Could this be God?
Straight up!
Or is it a mask?

Here's to the tribe of the hyper-cyber
Trippin' at the virtualmost outpost at the edge on the tip
Believin' that what they hear is the mothership
Drawing near.

Here's to the was you been, to the is you in
To what's deep and deep, to what's down and down
To the lost, and the blind, and the almost found.