The Poetry Beyond

In honor of my friend Shurli.

You lived a “good, hard” life, from the dumpster and the drugs and the thugs, from the street to the small apartment in town, “doin’ the program,” and stirring people up with your wisdom and music and poetry and just bein’ you.  Thank you, Shurli.  You live on in your family, your second family, your songs and your poems.

“I can do bad all by myself, Messing up I don’t need nobody else

And if I get in trouble from my doin’ wrong, I don’t need no one taggin’ along.

When shove come to push, And push comes to shove

Don’t play on me baby and then call it love

I may need someone to care about me, But as long as it’s a game

I’ll just let it be.

From nowhere to nowhere, Ain’t nowhere at all

And I’m not ready to stumble and fall

So get on with your life or leave it behind

Cause it’s ancient history, And I am not blind.

I may like your body, I may like your face

But nowhere to nowhere leaves a bad taste

And if we meet someplace at last

Let’s move on with our lives, Forgetting the past.”

“Nowhere to Nowhere,” Zebra Blues by Shurli Grant (2003)

*Shurli was a tough-hide woman of mixed race, hence she called herself a “zebra.”

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