Gil Scott-Heron - ...and then he wrote Meditations lyrics

Uh, this is, this poem is specifically for
The master of the tenor saxophone, uh, the
Immortal John Coltrane um, and, uh
There have been a lot of poems written, um
Mentioning
Coltrane, the contributions that he
Made to black music
But none specifically about him that I
Know of and none that, um, that go
Into what I consider his greatest piece
A Love Supreme and I wrote
This with A Love Supreme
In mind it’s called "and
Then he wrote Meditations"

Straddling the darkness
He controlled the bucking thrusts and rode on
Into the emptiness that he alone
Would try to fill into the middle to try and
Be the bridge between spirit's
"Expand, " he screamed
The vacuum was aroused, suspicious
And alarmed who would dare?
But on he rode

The tailwinds were from Africa
The bass and force were timeless rhythms that
Restructured beat and consciousness
The chasms between seconds
Were made real and whole
New targets imploded within the void
Holes were punctured through
Ebony nothingness
And resistance increased, walls appeared

Rise up, Trane
The answer is just beyond the next wall
Rise up, Trane
The answer is just beyond the next wall
The Trane rose up

No one had ever so
Thoroughly defied the night
The crosswinds were from the east
Lyrical assessments
Harmonic sirens that called gut deep into
Never-seen, yet half-remembered desires
Is there a reincarnation, oh Lord?
Do I recognize a part of me that is dying
In the crevices of all these bleak skulls
Lying conception less here?
Non-existence attacked the man "Go back
Intruder! You are not welcome here!
We have no need for your emotion here!
We have no emotion here"
But obscurity was losing it's grip
The inky blackness gave way to grey shadows
The canvas of limbo became a veil
Porous and smoking from the heat
As rays of light touched
Upon never illuminated concern

The screams grew louder
The once placid nightmare of
Soundlessness was crumbling
Giving way to cries:
"Go back! Go back! Go back!"
And screams of pain and anger
In this the place you seek, black traveler
He was asked in this place we will tear
The flesh from your body
Here we will gladly crush your skull
And pour acid on your
Exposed and rotting brain
But we never let you die
We hold you here alone and, worst of all
Aware of all that we do to you
We hold you captive here in Hell
"But come, " said the wind
The threats were not the only sound
The faint throb of warmth that lay vibrating
Just beyond the horror of Hell
Was a magnet pulling and reaching
Drawing him on
"Come hell is past for you, " said the wind
And the rhythms of heaven absorbed him

A love supreme a love supreme
A love supreme a love supreme
And then John Coltrane wrote Meditations
That’s it it’s called "and
Then he wrote Meditations
" and it’s for John Coltrane