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Name
Michael F. Hopkins
Location
Buffalo, NY
Birthday
1952-12-15
Last login
7/2/2009 at 5:23 AM
Login status
Not currently online
Gender
Male
Relationship Status
__________
Motto
"Truth emerges, come what may. Make it worth the price you pay."
Motto
"Hope Persists."
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Blog Community
Elegy For The Glove (1958-2009)
6/27/2009 at 8:11 AM
ELEGY FOR THE GLOVE
Say a prayer for the boy
with golden voice
and happy feet
who never had a childhood
was confounded by
adulthood
and never found
the man he should
have been.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written June 25th and 26th, 2009
Say a prayer for the boy
with golden voice
and happy feet
who never had a childhood
was confounded by
adulthood
and never found
the man he should
have been.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written June 25th and 26th, 2009
A Weaving Of Truth And Dream
4/20/2009 at 9:11 PM
A WEAVING OF TRUTH AND DREAM
Solo piano testimonial. Jazz
holding the High Court.
Cecil Taylor, Hallwalls,
Buffalo NY, April 18th,
2009.
Conjure began as chant and whisper
growl and rustling bones from yonder
offering space and premonition
of lost souls found
and recognition
sway of earth and wind reply
to fire’s reach and water’s sigh
shadows beckon curtain parts
the prelude set
a ritual starts
hands on ivory sing and dance
body motions soulful prance
sonata swirls a precious swing
into Heaven
passion flings
answering the Highest call
clap of thunder Holy roll
rhapsodies of lifelines long
facing down
the most monstrous wrong
tempest laughter gleeful stride
daybreak fuels the evening ride
ancient mariner setting straight
the way of journey
which no longer waits
youthful spirit tunes our hearts
tin ears stay perplexed
as Blues took shape
and slyly spun
the scope of what comes next.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written April 20th, 2009
Solo piano testimonial. Jazz
holding the High Court.
Cecil Taylor, Hallwalls,
Buffalo NY, April 18th,
2009.
Conjure began as chant and whisper
growl and rustling bones from yonder
offering space and premonition
of lost souls found
and recognition
sway of earth and wind reply
to fire’s reach and water’s sigh
shadows beckon curtain parts
the prelude set
a ritual starts
hands on ivory sing and dance
body motions soulful prance
sonata swirls a precious swing
into Heaven
passion flings
answering the Highest call
clap of thunder Holy roll
rhapsodies of lifelines long
facing down
the most monstrous wrong
tempest laughter gleeful stride
daybreak fuels the evening ride
ancient mariner setting straight
the way of journey
which no longer waits
youthful spirit tunes our hearts
tin ears stay perplexed
as Blues took shape
and slyly spun
the scope of what comes next.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written April 20th, 2009
Hope Prevails. Work Awaits. Let The Future Begin, Now.
11/6/2008 at 10:39 AM
DESTINY BECKONS
The election of
Barack Obama
as the 44th
President of
the United
States.
Election Night
2008.
No more waiting. Excuses fall.
Chains shatter to the rise of
choice for all.
History came; its
mandate, for a
change
in living color.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written November 4th, 2008
attuned November 5th, 2008
The election of
Barack Obama
as the 44th
President of
the United
States.
Election Night
2008.
No more waiting. Excuses fall.
Chains shatter to the rise of
choice for all.
History came; its
mandate, for a
change
in living color.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written November 4th, 2008
attuned November 5th, 2008
Honoring The Master Commentator Of MEET THE PRESS (1950-2008). Gentleman. Scholar. Peerless Journalist. World Class. Buffalo NY’s Very Best.
6/14/2008 at 12:19 AM
TIM RUSSERT
Chipper. Calming. Ever Congenial.
Always Comprehensive.
The sharpest point
brought home
with a smile.
In a time of blind extremes
and far too many dumb
mouths, he always
knew
what to say, and how.
In an age of prejudiced zealots, selfish
lackwits, and dogged brownnosers,
here walked a man who heeded all
with a fearless grasp and
a gentle touch.
Humble wit accents the most
pointed jab. Serious resolve
fuels the heartiest of laughs
and the most urgent news
to be shared.
A moderator advocating moderation
from everyone, he acted as only the
best of risktakers can – quietly,
truthfully and
in the open
Never forget the rarest of treasures –
a speaker wisely invoking the need to act,
and our right to listen. Heed the town crier
who encourages our conscience
as well as our voice.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written June 13th, 2008
Chipper. Calming. Ever Congenial.
Always Comprehensive.
The sharpest point
brought home
with a smile.
In a time of blind extremes
and far too many dumb
mouths, he always
knew
what to say, and how.
In an age of prejudiced zealots, selfish
lackwits, and dogged brownnosers,
here walked a man who heeded all
with a fearless grasp and
a gentle touch.
Humble wit accents the most
pointed jab. Serious resolve
fuels the heartiest of laughs
and the most urgent news
to be shared.
A moderator advocating moderation
from everyone, he acted as only the
best of risktakers can – quietly,
truthfully and
in the open
Never forget the rarest of treasures –
a speaker wisely invoking the need to act,
and our right to listen. Heed the town crier
who encourages our conscience
as well as our voice.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written June 13th, 2008
Comments Community
Poetry Word
Poetry Word
Poetry Word
Blog Community
That's History!!!
5/11/2008 at 7:29 AM
THAT'S HISTORY!!!!!!
"You haven't heard
my story yet."
Sun Ra
I'm the Cosmic Vagabond.
The neighbor next door.
The well-read relation
Book Rich. Dirt Poor.
I've taught many classrooms,
and hurdled mean streets.
I'm Poetry and Ethics.
I scrape for end's meat.
I've made my mistakes,
and scaled some plateaus.
I'd just like to reap
all that I sow.
Some slam me
because I give a damn.
I'll come and I'll go
as who I am.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written March 23rd, 2006
"You haven't heard
my story yet."
Sun Ra
I'm the Cosmic Vagabond.
The neighbor next door.
The well-read relation
Book Rich. Dirt Poor.
I've taught many classrooms,
and hurdled mean streets.
I'm Poetry and Ethics.
I scrape for end's meat.
I've made my mistakes,
and scaled some plateaus.
I'd just like to reap
all that I sow.
Some slam me
because I give a damn.
I'll come and I'll go
as who I am.
by Michael F. Hopkins
© All rights reserved
written March 23rd, 2006
26439
5/11/2008 at 4:14 PM
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5/9/2008 at 4:09 PM
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5/3/2008 at 12:55 PM
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