“My Babe”

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My Baby don’t stand no cheaten my babe, My baby don’t stand no cheaten my babe;

From cotton fields back in ole Mississip, Muddy be the Water, turn Chicago hip, my baby Etta, at last, still the queen.

Muddy Waters ( 1913- 1983 )

Wolf be howlin, Willie a tower, Etta crying Daddy, Minnesota Fat’s a coward…

Money played Chess, was in his soul, Allen Freed the phrase, coined Rock & Roll;

Buried Chuck,with jail house rock…Elvis played the song, took him straight to the top…my babe…

Playing blues, slide guitars best, cried the night they lay Walter to rest, never seen no angel look so sharp,

But, then you never seen no angel playing blues harp…my babe

Everything seemed to die, when Walter went away,
Muddy had no money, Willie still wrote songs for no-one to play;

When from across the sea, a forgotten voice, Willie said Mud, member them lil white English boys?

Mud say, ain’t got no money to fly no plane, Willie said, them boys still loves you for giving them their name;

Want’s us to tour with-em, and play our songs;
And England soon met the boys who set the tone:

Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon, Keith Richards, Mick Jagger, and the Rolling Stones. mY bABe…
– 2010


    • Etta James was the epitome of what the blues was really about. Muddy Waters was a share cropper; happy as he could be to continue a life that his daddy laid out before him…Etta James was a Chicago big city, (Harlem Like} prodigy; of someone who never would admit that she was his,,, Daughter…”Minnesota Fats” So once again… I say sing pretty butterfly, Sing…


  1. I’ll have to look into some of those poets work, thanks for sharing that with me. Of course, I can see from your picture that you are white Brad…lol

    But, I know what you mean, there’s no color bearer in your heart,as their is none in mine.When it comes to this, we’re all Blue.
    Hope you have a safe, and happy fourth of July Weekend.
    God Bless you…


  2. I love Muddy Waters.
    This kind of reminds me of Langston Hughes’ poetry.
    His Poems “Dream Deferred” and “Mother to Son” are similar.

    He hung out in a lot of early 20th Century Jazz clubs.
    So he had a lot of his poems come out of Jazz.

    Black Poetry and Jazz were closely linked in the early 20th Century.
    I’m white but I appreciate them and their history none the less.


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