we have seepd
out from jazzrooms
like liquid
crafty drum drops done
right by effort
& setdown on lotus petals
on warm wintermoons of mars
or
behind grey doors
of your prestigious emergency rooms
we are floaters
silent cold
& when the hawk blows
west
thru tribe minds
you dont see us hung
from burning bridges
aewatkins(c)2020
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About a. edward watkins
With the exception of 2 years study of western music theory and harmony- I am a
self taught percussionist, writer and abstract painter. Not your drummer boy drummer - not your writerly writer nor the painterly painter. Creativity is an integral aspect
of my existence - as it is for us all - in some form or another. My experiences in life
have informed and shaped my world view profoundly. I am the disrupter - the never quite satisfied - the relentless creator of word, sound and image. I question the answers and question the questions.
A.EDWARD WATKINS 