I am moved and that means I need to get it out of my chest by reflecting and you - you are the recipient - I appreciate that.
I listened to the Gil Scott-Heron documentary
as shown HERE.
Powerful.
He is even more my hero now.
Here he was, RIP Gil, a drug dependent person
and even losing his life through this addictive illness.
Yet I respect him. Poet/Singer/Author/Activist/Fragile human being.
"I came from a broken home."
Not me
I am quoting Gil Scott-Heron
poet, recording artiste, campaigner.
Read the lyrics
Soak them in.
(the FULL lyrics are in the post below this.)
My work - MISSION::
I worked with a group of
wounded young humans some time ago.
Everyone of them had
come from a broken home.
All had either been forced to leave
or chosen to leave because they were
~being physically battered
~made to feel they were not wanted
~abused
Another young man I know
was pushed away to live with grandmother
no place for him 'at home'.
In his twenties he still feels rejected
and has little confidence.
To feel unwanted
must be absolutely terrible.
Another tells me,
and it still rings in my ears,
that he was moved out
to nothing because
he was caught up in endless fights
between his parents.
He was cared for by the state
He mental health was cared for
He talks about feeling like a stray cat.
The stray cat lived on the street
no food for days
hardly sleeping
no clean clothes
filthy hair
all alone
feeling not good enough
feeling not enough.
He talks of walking into school
nobody knew him
feeling all alone
without a family
without a base
without belonging
without without.
He heard screaming in the night
He was full of such nightmares
He felt lost emotionally
relationally and
totally unstable.
At home he never been acknowledged
even doing well at school -
it was ignored.
He did good things, NO PRAISE
He joined a gang did bad things and
he was PRAISED BY HIS PEERS.
So many I know and work with,
and such a privilege to know them,
either
explode - violence
or
Implode - self harm.
***
I felt so sad when I heard
that Gill Scott Heron had died.
Only 62
I had seen him perform live at Summerset House in 2010
Mrs Beautiful had bought me tickets for my birthday.
We also booked him for
The Greenbelt Festival too in 2010.
I met and chatted with his band
and he ........... failed to appear himself.
Never crossed the atlantic and missed the gig.
He came from a broken home
he lived with it all his life
yet he was such a talented generous
all giving human
who had a crack dependency - I understand.
I feel with him and so many others.
I feel for him in his wounds
and so many others.
Rest in Peace and Shalom Gil
see you there and
say hello to Marvin.
This RADIO programme says more that I can possible spill.
It told me more about him.
His music is riddled through the programme.
I was driving yesterday and I choked with emotion.
His passion for justice was relentless.
His activism was transferred into action poetry songs books and life.
Please consider listening AND
you only have a few more days to listen
- easy to find on this LINK HERE.
***
I am also reprinting this dedication to his life by Michael Franti another great artiste I respect.
"Goodbye Gil" by Michael Franti
It was no secret to anyone who came across him in song or life, that Gil Scott-Heron was two things: A genius and a junkie. I say this so simply, because Gil was this clear about everything he ever said to me.
In the the anthemic and eternally poignant song "The Revolution will Not Be Televised" the genius Gil was...able to make us think about the world in a different way, laugh hysterically about the ironies of American culture, and anger at the hypocrisy of our political system, all to a beat that kept us on the dance floor, with a voice and flow that kept you waiting with anticipation for the next phrase.
I had always considered Gil to be the Godfather of modern rap and when I asked him if he considered himself the inventor of it, he responded with humility and truth,"I don't know if I was THE inventor of rap, but I was definitely there while it was being invented". In "Johannesburg" Gil kept us dancing to the revolution, while opening our eyes to the evils of South Africa's Apartheid. In the acapela "Whitey on the Moon" Gil kept us laughing with nearly tongue in cheek lines like "I can't pay no doctor bill, but Whitey's on the moon, Ten year's from now I'll be paying still, but Whitey's on the moon". Even in his rage Gil delivered his lines through a smile, chuckle and baritone that made everyone feel connected to him.
To anyone who met Gil or saw him onstage it was clear that he was an addict. The first time I met him in San Francisco in 1991 while working as a doorman at the Kennel Klub, my heart was broken to see a hero of mine barely able to make it to the stage, but when he got there he was clear as crystal while singing and dropping knowledge bombs in his between song banter. His view of the world was so sad and yet so inspiring. He made me think about the man and musician I wanted to be and I always left his shows questioning my own beliefs and wanting to go out and change the world.
One night after a show in Emeryville California, when Gil was particularly high, I asked him what it meant to be a rapper and he said, "rap is poetry put to music and the role of the poet in our society, is to make difficult things easy to understand." I never forgot that phrase. He put his arm around me and he said, "it's on you and your generation now".
The next morning I got a call from his girlfriend who said that Gil had missed his flight and asked if I would go to the hotel to check on him. I arrived at the hotel and tried to call the room but there was no answer, I asked the hotel manager to take me to his room, but when I knocked on the door there was still no answer. I begged the manager to let me in the room because there could be a medical emergency and when he opened the door I found Gil passed out on the bed in a mess of cash, drugs and candy wrappers. I thought he was dead and was surprised when I shook him and he woke up. I told him he needed to get on his flight or he was going to miss the next show in Toronto, where the rest of the band had already arrived. I took him to I-HOP, got him fed and coffee'd up while he tried to pull himself together. I joked with him that my nickname for him was "Pills Pot-Heroin" he laughed hard and said "That's a good one Mike!" He was so appreciative that I had come to find him and kept thanking me in between calls to his dealer, all while mumbling that he was so sad that I had to see him this way. I told him he should spend one more night in the hotel, but he insisted on going to the airport, when he got there he had lost his ticket and dropped 3000$'s cash for a first class flight to Toronto.
The next day I got a call from his girlfriend. He never made it onto his connecting flight in Chicago and went missing for three months. This was unfortunately the pattern with Gil. In his charm he left a wake of broken hearted people who he was close to.
Over the years people have compared my musical style to Gil's. Early in my career one of the worst reviews I ever received on a record said, "Franti can't rap as well as (Public Enemy's) Chuck D and can't sing as well as Gil Scott Heron!" It was meant to be a slight, but I was so thrilled to be named in a sentence with Chuck and especially Gil, that I read it as a compliment!
My two favorite songs of Gil's were his saddest and most personal, 1971's "Pieces of a Man" and "Home is where the Hatred is". In the latter he describes "home" as that place in his heart where it is so painful to live that he would prefer to never go there.
A junkie walking through the twilight I'm on my way home I left three days ago, but no one seems to know I'm gone… …
...home is where the needle markstry to heal my broken heart and it might not be such a bad idea if I never, if I never went home again home again
Gil Scott-Heron has finally gone "home" and I hope he has finally found a peaceful place in his heart. He brought so much excitement, empowerment, humor, politics, dance and wisdom to my life as a musician and a man. He was a great example of how to strive to be one's best and how to avoid being your worst. He was my "Beatles", my "Nelson Mandela", my "Richard Pryor", my "William Shakespeare". He lived way longer than I expected him to and far shorter than I ever hoped he would. I was deeply touched by every moment we had together. I am very sad today, and am a better person for having loved him and his music the way that I always will.
Thank you and goodbye Gil.
Michael Franti
AND LASTLY I publish lyrics
from his song/spoken words::
I came from a BROKEN HOME
by Gil Scott-Heron
I want to make this a special tribute
to a family that contradicts the concepts
heard the rules but wouldn't accept
and women-folk raised me
and i was full grown before i knew
I came from a broken home
sent to live with my grandma down south
when my uncles was leaving
and my grandfather had just left for heaven
they said and as every-ologist would certainly note
i had no strong male figure right?
But lily Scott was absolutely not your mail order room service type cast black grandmother
i was moved in with her; temporarily, just until things were patched,
til this was patched and til that was patched
until i became at 3, 4, 5,6 ,7, 8, 9 and 10
the patch that held lily Scott who held me and like them
i become one more and I loved her from the absolute marrow of my bones
and we was holdin on,
i come from a broken home
She had more then the 5 senses
she knew more then books could teach
and raised everyone she touched just a little bit higher
and all around her there was a natural sense
as though she sensed what the stars say what the birds say
what the wind and the clouds say
a sensual soul and self that African sense
and she raised me like she raised 4 of her own
and i was hurt and scared and shocked when lily Scott left suddenly one night
and they sent a limousine from heaven to take her to god, if there is one.
So i knew she had gone; and
i came from a broken home
***
