Background music of a jazz beat
Is playing in the mind
Walking alone in the streets
almost like searching
with nothing to find
During time
of the seventies and eighties.
Living from scraps, many times food off a trashcan
Downtime..
tagging on the walls with one spray can
written by hand
variety of messages that still stands: like
"SAMO is Dead" , "Life is confusing at this Point" and
"SAMO@ AS AN ALTERNATIVE TO PLASTIC FOOD STANDS"
Art was going through a social change,
It needed to change
Because it was all looking & even sounding the same
you came in, and changed the game,
disproportioned its waist,
with Warhol and Harring,
gave it a new face,
gave the observer a new "taste"
and sound...starting with " Gray "
the name of your band,
Unlike others that were just typical,
In the middle of the punk and art scene
We're smoking weed is habitual, before they made it medicinal
Yet opiates helped you reached your untimely end,
Overdosed after shooting heroin
Eyes rolled back, taking last breath
Not a surprise, everyone in the room left
Around you there was no friend
Maybe you needed a heroine, a woman to tame thee,
for the while,
just to living wild
the ecclectic radiant genious child
your artwork is an inspiration,
But nothing mattered...
till you made it
Now people try to take it,
( your old art from the street, for easily over $300,000 a piece)
fame, you really couldn't take it
with your art, tried to escape it
but alas you couldn't shake it
so overdosed and died, that was close to twenty-five....
Years ago
Worldwide, your artwork is exhibited in shows
Sometimes in private auctions sold,
for prices untold
a price I may never afford
But if you ask me,
that isn't the real glory
but your art via eyes...
that tell...your life story
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