Poetry by Jenean C Gilstrap: Of Words and Magic and the Mojo Man of Glasgow…

Poetry by Jenean C Gilstrap: Of Words and Magic and the Mojo Man of Glasgow…
Jenean C Gilstrap

Poetry: of Words and Magic and the Mojo Man of Glasgow…

Poetry by Jenean C Gilstrap

there are times when one comes across the written word that truly moves us – moves us in ways inexplicable – in ways we’ve never been moved by mere words before – we are transported to other worlds other places other times other lives other loves in those magic-carpet-ride words – we can’t get enough – we are word-sponges in a vast ocean of words created by one whose writing seems to cast a spell over us – we are better for having read the words – [his] words – and we know that we will never be the same again – several years ago i came across such a man – it is to him that my own words are dedicated –

Memphis Mojo

Memphis Mojo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

the mojo man

it’s all true you know

them things you hear

‘bout him

‘bout what it is

that he does

what it is

he really does

you know what i mean

them “things” that he does

with that stuff he has

the stuff you can’t get nowhere else

you know the stuff

that stuff his stuff

it’s all true you know

them things i hear

when he comes near

when he whispers in my ear

when he pulls out that little

indigo instrument of his

when he stirs up his magic mojo

stirs up all them crystalline dreams

stirs ‘em all up into crimson streams

ties ‘em together with corrugated strings

all them beautiful things

you know what i mean

you hear ‘em too


yeah, i know you do

you hear ‘em too

you know what i mean

when he pulls out his little stash

the stash


that stash

all that sweet sugary stuff

that ain’t none never ‘nough

that makes us beg for more

that trips us to that other shore

the one where life ain’t so bad no more

or the one where life’s shut all the doors

it all depends on his stuff of the day

the stuff of come what may

the stuff of findin’ the way

the way into the heart’a things

into the guts’a things

into the deep dark black’a things

the divil’a things

the burnin’ hell’a things

into the truth’a things

the beauty’a things

the real’a things

the real deal things

yeah, them things

them “things” that he does

you know the things

them things

that most of us

never even hear of

never know of

never deal

never feel

never fill

never will

never experience

even in the blackest night

let alone on a sunlit day

when life’s gone astray

has slapped us in the face

stingin’ our flesh like a squirt of mace

has robbed us deserted us

left us alone in the desert sands

without ev’n no layin’ on of hands

without no map no drink

sendin’ us straight over the brink

no shelter from the storms’a life

leavin’ us in the midst’a all that strife

when life has lost its everlovin’ mind

beatin’ us down ‘n all’a kind

but then just like the sunrisin’ on a misty morn’

like a breath’a fresh air

with all kinds’a love to spare

here he comes

yeah, here he comes

carryin’ his little magic wand

his magic mojo wand of indigo ink

danglin’ it in front of us

wavin’ it ’round

makin’ those marks of his

marks can’t nobody else even compare

marks nobody else would even dare

marks that take us round ‘n round

makin’ us think we’re heaven bound

‘n just like pavlov’s dogs

there we go pantin’ ‘n pawin’

salivatin’ motivatin’

whimperin’ whinin’

lappin’ up his stuff

all his stuff

lappin’ it all up off’a them virtual paper plates

sniffin’ snortin’ inhalin’ exhalin’

all’a it

all’a his stuff

yeah, you know what i mean

that stuff

the stuff that ain’t never ‘nough

the stuff ‘a all them magnificent mystical tales

you know what i mean

his stuff

that indigo ink stuff

yeah, that stuff

every single drop every last drop

till there ain’t nothin’ no more

till all them words’a his

just slam shut the door

slam it shut

right straight shut

yeah, shut!


shut till the next time

you know what i mean

the time

yeah, that time

the time

the next time

when he next comes ‘round

makin’ us think we’re all heaven bound

givin’ us a fix on what is what can be

what should be

a fix on love an’ light

an’ all things right

slap through the day into the night

takin’ you to all them pearly heights

when he does his thing

you know the thing

that thing he does

with his stuff

that stuff that more ain’t never ‘nough

that thing that he does

when he pulls out his magic pen

‘n it all begins



with him

‘n his magic mojo pen

for all’a us

yeah, you know who i mean

you know the ones



his junkies





Mojo Blues

Mojo Blues (Photo credit: Thomas Hawk)



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View Comments (7)
  • Pingback: Indian Poetry. Tomorrow You Will Thank Today by Kushal Poddar | Yareah Magazine. Arts and writing()

  • martincid

    Rhythmic. I liked it. Thank you very much again, madame.

    • many thanks, sir – when i first wrote it, i also recorded it on my blog – but my little inexpensive mic is just not as powerful as i would like – have to upgrade – anyway, had some nice comments to the recording – would love to do a cd of my poems to go with my book – thanks again –

      • martincid

        the cd with the book is a good idea. I insist: if we can help you… we would be glad to help

        • oh, how very thoughtful and kind of you, martin – we should talk more of it, then – and my apologies for just now responding – sometimes i forget to check back over here every day when i’m on FB – will be more diligent in the future – and thanks so much!

    • oh, and some day, i shall have to tell you and your fair lady the real story of this man – who is or who was or who may be or who never was – book material, i’m thinking… 😉

  • great images to go accompany this little piece – many thanks yareah!

Jenean C Gilstrap

Since childhood, Ms. Gilstrap has had a love of words-of writing and other arts. An individualist, she chooses not to follow any pre-conceived pattern for the outlay of these words – rather, she allows them the freedom to forge their own path as they make their way from her heart to pen to paper. Her art work involves both photography and mixed media on large canvasses. She is a weekly featured poet in Yareah Magazine where her works have appeared for more than a year. Her piece The Granite God was the winning poem in Painted Bride Quarterly Sidebar #12 [2012]. Her work has been featured in performance poetry theatrical productions in Louisiana and her short story, Retribution, published in the Helicon Literary Magazine there. She and her gypsywomanworld blog are included as character/story elements in Ghost Key, the fictional work of award-winning author Trish MacGregor. Her first volume of poetry [2013], words unspoken, is available in both paperback and on kindle at amazon. She currently divides her time between her home in Louisiana and the east coast as she completes her second volume of poetry to be published in 2013.

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