Little Richard 1932-2020
The “Little” was for his youth when he first heard the call
Good Golly Miss Molly sure like to ball
What did we just hear? Completely absurd
But the Bible is clear, In the Beginning was the Word
Whop bop b-luma b-lop bam bom
What on earth? A guy with makeup and hair
That stood stiff and high – six inches or more
Even a child knew something had shifted
Raucous and wild, can’t help but be lifted
Could this be what life holds in store?
Wonderfully weird to the core and more
sexy before understanding that whole deal
How does it feel?
How does it feel?
Well…. good.
So felt James Brown who freely admitted
Mr. Penniman forever will reign
Broke boundaries of all that is permitted
No Little Richard, no Purple Rain
No bite to the Beatles, no Rocket Man
And Jumpin’ Jack Flash no way could capture
Deep Georgia Jesus is where it began
In Minnesota, Bob saw The Rapture
Compared to Elvis in some people’s books
(well, books that are obscene)
When asked of this he’d give one of his looks:
“Hey, he is The King but baby I’m The Queen”
The black man who would not be quiet
Electrifying-hip-shaking-gaudy-bawdiness
The white man came to start a riot
But swooned to the siren song of Good Lawdiness
His shows started out one side black one side white
Which inspired him to give all he had
Of course music can’t make everything right
But at least there was movement to plaid
Strip joints, shows (drag and minstrel)
Relatively safe for luscious black men
From Macon to mayhem, tassel and tinsel
He got a break and that was when
A-wop-bop-a-loo-mop a-good-Goddam!
Tutti Frutti, good booty
Knocked out manager man
Spread the Gospel God of black beauty
The God line gets gone though you can’t hide the praise
Of sex unbridled ecstatic
“Booty” becomes “Oh Rutti”, a made up phrase
We catch on despite the static
Of Pat Boone – there for us – his role to tame
The rise of revolution with nice easy pieces
“This is America land of no soul” but then came
The unvarnished yawp of androgynous Jesus
I hear America screaming
Freaky, funny passionate prayerful
Silence is violence – he’d give preacher’s glad tidings
They’d fill his shows, you had to be careful
Emmett Till echoes – a fever abiding
Pulpit gravity and pull of the stage
When occasion of sin too many to tally
He’d worship at church till it felt like a cage
And a hymnal verse became Long Tall Sally
All guys wanted to be thus – desire unspoken
Little Richard would free us, no longer broken
Eye shadow makeup Gilead balm
Whop bop b-luma b-lop bam bom !!