Skip to content

Mic It Up – Live

Mic it up

R- Go on and mic it up

You never know who might walk in

If you can’t fly then run

IF you can’t run then walk

If you can’t walk then crawl

But whatever you do

You have to keep moving forward

So, go on and mic it up


Do you have a dream

Or are you living the nightmare

Do you merely believe or do you know

The prisons of our mind, they captivate

Make us hesitate. . . So


There are a thousand reasons to watch and wait

Shallow lives unlived, submitted to Fate

Your Groove is waiting baby

Belief is the god of that which Ain’t

But knowledge of Now rescues Can from can’t . . . So


No more sitting and waiting for the world to change

Spinning round and round in the same old game

The real game is on right now

Are you gonna watch or get, get, get in the Game

Free your mind and the rest will follow . . . So


Something is waiting to happen

It’s waiting on you

You will never figure it out before you begin

It will happen when you let it

Run, jump, try it, do it, you won’t long regret it . . . Just go on and

Follow Plato's Groove on

6000 Days

Image result for journey chilton county al images

6000 days.  18 some odd years. Almost 2 decades.  How many hours?  Somewhere around 144,000.  There are almost 9,000,000 minutes and 520,000,000 seconds, each could be further broken down ad infinitum. But within the illusion of time’s structure and numbers are the moments.  It is the moments which live, which are actual and within which Life flows.  So often we pay attention to the frames within which we operate, marking success and failure with numbers.  But paying to much attention to the numbers may result in missing the point/s, the moments.

For most of 6000 days I have been engaged in the lives of a mostly rural Alabama County, south of Birmingham.  My official role was that of a Licensed Professional Counselor.  I worked primarily with families filled with fear and pain.  Trapped in repetitive negative generational patterns which reproduced abuse and neglect and tragedy passed on from parent to child.  As a part of this work I interacted with the various systems which, made up of people, brought their own mixture of blessings and curses to the life of our community.  The Courts, the Schools, the Churches, the Child Protection agencies, Law Enforcement, and members of the Bar, were roles and functions filled by individuals who brought their own unique mix of blessings and curses to the effort.  And I brought mine.  There has been terror and tragedy.  Horrible grief, confusion, disillusionment, and unforeseen hope and exultation.  Hundreds of millions of moments and interactions have produced the story of these last 6000 days.  Recently the Judge who provided leadership for last 18 years has retired.  I have worked with her for most of that.  I have played my part as has she and the many others with whom we traveled.  The retirement ceremony offered an opportunity to reflect upon the story of days, the story of our days together.  What follows is my reflections upon the last 6000 days.  While there will be others to follow I think it is important to place a maker here before I move on.  I wonder who will write the story of the next 6000 days?

I read this to a crowd of well wishers and some hangers-on.  It got very quiet and still, for a moment. 🙂

6000 Days

Moment by moment, filling the complete continuum, cacophony of emotion, thought, choice

Moments filled minutes, filled hours, filled days, filled these many years

Some moments noticed but many more passed unmarked

We each played our roles, seeking order out of chaos, right from wrong, a path through the brambles

Enforcers, defenders, adversaries, scribes, counselors, accountants, priests, and adjudicators

There has been both honor and betrayal, grace and justice, clarity and confusion along the way

Each Soul changed and revealed moment by moment, minute by minute, over these 6000 days

She led the band, and shaped its rhythms and rhymes, holding the banner to follow through the field

And our merry band of jesters and clowns followed the standard before us

Sometimes sprinting, sometimes limping we have moved through these 6000 days

We have known and have been known to each other

Over time our essence was revealed, roles cast aside at times for clarity’s sake

Humanity demanding more than form or structure, something real

Webs of trust and caution woven creating the pattern of Us beneath Her banner

We have known her as Judge, arbiter of the Law, yet there is more to see if one would but look

The role is temporary and shallow at its surface, soon to pass away

In my knowing of her I see her. I see Mother, Daughter, Sister, and Friend

She mothers and frets and chides and protects those who belong to her, on both sides of the Bar

She has mothered me

She is a daughter devoted, lovingly submitted to her calling and the demands of it

And as a daughter sought more to be wise than to be obeyed

She is a sister in understanding and empathy and care for those with whom she has traveled

Seldom revealed in the light of her role but guides all that she does

And she is friend, companion, and leader of our troop

Patron, backer, supporter, benefactor to us in ways both acknowledged and those unseen

And as you retire from the Role and retire into something new, we thank you for these 6000 days

You have led this rabble as well as we permitted and only now have occasion to stop and notice the balance of the many, many moments which we have all created together

And our most honorable Lady know that We are forever changed and made better for knowing You

I, we, respect the role but love the humanity of You

Follow Plato's Groove on

Dirty Laundry -Live 2

1-9-17 Workplay B’ham, Al  Expansion Project.  Was in a new much larger room.  We did several but I didn’t hit record.  New folks are showing up every week.  We were talking about inviting other artists, dancers, etc., to join.  The larger room would make that possible.

Dirty Laundry

R- Dirty Laundry. It keeps on piling up.

Every day I bring it home, My dirty Laundry.


I talked to the preacher about my stains and how my praying just seems in vain.

Can’t seem to get away from my dirty laundry

I went to My Place to find relief.  There were folks from the corner and in from the street.

There are those who have and those who have not.  And we all keep hidden our sweet secret spots.

Some days are dirty and some days will shine.  This day, that day they all are all mine.

Some days are dry and I can’t work up spit, and sometimes I laugh in spite of this shit.

But though I get tattered and torn and the veil of this house is weakened and worn.

I grit my teeth and set my face, I kick up my heals and pick up the pace.

But tonight I’m not going to worry bout no dirty laundry.

Follow Plato's Groove on