I’m not the biggest fan of Prince’s music, but as an artist, I have a strong respect for his creative energy and boldness, and ability to take influences and blend them into a new entity. I admire his passion to re-write the rules of the industry, an industry where the artist gets a small cut of the profits of his work, and has even less control over final production, marketing and distribution.

At 57, Prince had so much left to say musically, that those who knew him say he was in the studio either writing or recording almost every day. So much still trapped inside. Since they say you can’t take it with you, I guess it must come out some way, and it must go somewhere …

The Stuff Trapped Inside

This one has minimal content of soul
Dead music starved
No dancing in the gutting of this one
Or so I was told

I silent cut, split, opened, displayed
Probed, drained, removed unwanted things
Finger tips in recessed cavities
What’s this?

Some things lodged, cleft
There, there

There, but
Not where expected
No one expected it everywhere
But here and there

And there
And here
And here again
Settling to earth

Settling into the body
Where he left us
Unsettled,surprised, soon
Spreading to where we are

Like driven rain
Soaked roots sprouting downward to where we exist
To where we chose to live
Where we are entwined

Where we choose to be entangled
Left to breathe this thing called life
Where our greatest need is to fill the empty soul’s contents
And to free it.