POEM: I JUST HEARD JOHN BUFFINGTON DIED

photo by Alex Lear

 

 

I JUST HEARD JOHN BUFFINGTON DIED

 

an incredibly bright blue almost white open sky

with distant puffs of slow moving cottony clouds

birds floating, brown kites with heart, feathers & song, it's

tom dent's birthday, he & i are sharing little moments like

i imagine bird & diz must have done off the stand,

maybe between sets or on a train, in a car, or just standing

on a corner, two creative, hip, sophisticated but unjaded

men savoring the spiritual charm of one love

tom tells me: john buffington died this day

 

driving back to my work space, negoitiating the laughing colors

of big easy street life i spy young black new orleans women

beautiful as only they can be, walk-swaying through

this infant soft afternoon giving gleam to the sunshine,

a feminine kaleidoscope of skin color, hair texture, body build

& dimpled attitude, ah yes, this life can be mighty good

 

there is nothing sad about today, the pine tree in front

of my office porch is laughing, the weather is an afro-french kiss

every nuance encourages contentment & the giving of thanx

to be here & now witnessing the wonderfulness of these moments

 

& yet john buffington has died

life is like that

even when it's fucked up it's beautiful

especially when beautiful, something sad

is going down somewhere—still like an eternal faucet

for every painful hole that death leaves

some other great goodness flowingly fills the gap

 

on some less enjoyable day when everyone i know is well

i will think back to the bittersweet bliss i tasted

on the afternoon i heard my friend john buffington died

& ironically identify the euphoric radiance of this death day

as a wonderous transitional tribute the creator

gave to the generous spirit of john buffington

 

—kalamu ya salaam