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Saul Williams |
By
Matthew Ismael Ruiz
on
Monday, 20 February 2012
the evolution of saul is organic.
the revolution of williams is bombastic.
born of a seed in a volcanic young mind
his dreams manifest and music coalesces manic.
his
words become poems
poems become songs
songs become anthems
the anthems inspire.
a kook in every sense of the word
the pied piper of creative expression
he bangs his "drum" and waves his "baton"
williamsburg's music hall absorbing his $20 lesson
the crowd content to follow along
as baby dreads protrude from his skull like the plumage of
some exotic bird
the words spew forth like wanton flame
bathing the hall in a red-orange glow
the only heads unmoved belonging to lames
his shirt soaked through as if he stood in the rain
grabbing a seat on the edge of the stage as his energy wanes
from excessive expulsion of emotional pain
removing yet another shirt to reveal sweat stains
before rising to resume the show.
SLAM!
BANG!
CRASH!
BOOM!
percussive resonance fills the room.
cymbals ring and horns blare
spotlights reveal clouds of dust in the air
his voice stands unfettered
with or without sonic accouterment
its absence births a violent silence
superfluous chatter exposed as malignant
the void filled only by his mind spray
a brunette coquette with an all access pass
red drum major's jacket and a pint of ale
hides in the shadows before the encore
as scores of doubters decide not to wait for more.
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words become poems
bathing the hall in a red-orange glow
cymbals ring and horns blare



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