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A Man of a Few More Words - by Swan Morrison

I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues (Poem)

On the porch of his shack in the Mississippi Delta
Blind Willie McSmith picked guitar.
A pattern evolved from his musical experiments
With a beauty beyond tunes thus far.

Had Willie McSmith had some musical understanding
Of this ‘Shit hot tune of mine’,
He might have explained its harmonic progression
Of twelve bars in 4/4 time.

He tried to establish a suitable name:
A label the whole world could see.
He chose to assign it ‘The Oranges’-
Nearby was a large citrus tree.

It’s a curious feature of nature
That one not infrequently finds
Original thoughts independently
Occurring to several minds.

So it was that Blind Reverend Sammy McJones,
On a porch just a few miles away,
Came upon the identical ‘Crap cool notes’
On precisely the same summer’s day.

Blind Sammy, he also considered a name
For this top of his musical cream.
He selected ‘The Blues’ from some English connections
To Chelsea Football Team.

Then Sammy McJones, he began to compose
And was spoilt by the rhymes he could choose.
Clues, cruise, hues, shoes, use, dues and news:
Great cues rhyme and fuse with The Blues.

Soon the form spread on outwards from Sammy’s own porch
To New Orleans, then on to you.
Inspiring jazz, rock and roll, heavy metal
And hip hop - to name but a few.

Blind Willie McSmith, he attempted to write,
But couldn’t complete his first song.
What on Earth could he rhyme with ‘The Oranges’?
There was something quite desperately wrong.

At the head of his grave in the Mississippi Delta
Willie's last words are carved for all times:
‘If ya finds a shit hot new way to play yer guitar,
Call it after a color that rhymes’.