Music has no color. It's of a universal struggle. The song of the oppressed is also that of the oppressor; for if the oppressed sing of struggle and of change, they also sing of the oppressor's need for growth.
Music has no color. Music is unity like an upright bass; wood chocolate with cinnamon sprinkles. Ebony bow with cream hair. All singing together, sending waves into God's air.
Music has no color. Black notes on white paper, yellowed with age. Blue notes from a golden sax. Harmonica bends from pink lips darkened by tobacco's kiss.
Can you hear my color in stereo? All my colors? Mocha cafe au lait to your ears. Fried plantain with black seeds. Grease burning but damn, it's sweets.
Music is golden honey and skinned red knees. Music is pastel memories. Music is the whole rainbow as well as the colors you can't see...
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3 comments:
"They also sing of the oppressor's need for growth" This part is interesting. I'm not quite sure I understand it. Are you saying that this message is implied in the nature of the music? Or are you saying that the oppressed recognize that thier oppressors have room to grow and are calling for it. Either way I love the piece. You are right. Every culture, no matter how isolated developed thier own form of music. It is that powerful. "Music is golden honey and skinned red knees." Love it
I was saying that it was implied. Thank you girl!
I love that the songs that we sing about our oppressor liberate us and in turn beg the oppressor to liberate himself/herself. I kept hearing the song "Being In the Storm" while reading this. It's interesting to note that our song sings for them too, because the melange of colors that blend through our veins, spirits, and rich histories splash across pages of sheet music to make the argument for one collective struggle for all of humanity. Have you heard the Black Eyed Peas "One Tribe" from their new album? I think that song speaks to this idea. Check it out if you can. Again, great job.
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