Not nearly enough words to describe this Ancestor. A Genius and so far ahead of his time so may serious social and personal subjects he song & wrote about. Thanks Gil for sharing yourself with the world..
Thank you Gil for your skills and enlightenment, your powerful messages, your real humor, and beautiful chords. You have inspired me, uplifted me, awakened me and serenaded me almost all of my life. I thank the universe for sharing your precious time with us all.
Thank you Gil and Brian. Remembering those Lincoln University, Pa says when you and Brian would practice your songs in the student union building and I would sit on the stairs and listen. Certainly a very precious time.
I love Gil - the wisdom and real lyricism - the beautiful melodys - and most importantly the messages - all revelant - peace my brother peace - he seems to say so much with so few words - beautifully gets to the point
i have not heard this in ages. It means more to me now as it reflects my very precious time with a love that left this world a long time ago. Thank you DC for introducing me to this song and to prolific artist that recorded it (wiping a tear now)
It's so great to read your comments Bilal Sunni-Ali because you were there. He is still my life long hero, his contributions far outweighing the hurt he caused. He was very lucky to be surrounded by so much love
A Poem for GSH Its’ been over 3 years ago since you left that final indelible mark Gil. Over 3 years now that those that knew you and loved you sat quietly in that sterile white place on 5th Ave, where you laid. Sitting there, I wanted to scream and say, “Gil was a child of Harlem, these people who took your body did not know you”. I guess though irony plays itself out where it chooses and gives no pause or final direction to how we lived our lives. And although we are both children of spring of 49’ you spoke for me in my formative years. Your words, your poems gave rise to silent echoes wanting to escape and tell the world of how it really is.” Jagged jigsaw pieces, tossed about the room, I saw my grandma sweeping with her old straw broom”. Only you could pen such a song that made, that defined who we were and gave us love for our grandma hands. Who would know some forty years later that you would fall victim to your own pen, your own home is where the hatred is. Hard for me to listen to my favorite tuned without considering the once again - irony of it all. But I ain’t mad atcha Gil, because I know that each of us have to walk our own path. I wish though Gil that you could have been the first minute of your new day, that you could have had “new beginnings” and that finally I had something to offer you…that you could of burn those heroin “bridges” and that you could have found peace in ‘the middle of your day” realizing albeit too late that “speed kills”. And I kept saying “must be something” Gil could do, but in the end when you got tired of just being, “it was your world” and Gil you were right….”it was not meant for me”. Peace go with you brother…. Dorothy June 2014
Was there a touch of spring? Did she have a pink dress on? And when she smiled, her shyest smile Could you almost touch the warmth? And was it your first love, a very precious time? Was there the faintest breeze? And did she have a ponytail? And could she make you feel ten feet tall, Walking down the grassy trail? Was it your first love, a very precious time, time? Now they got me trying to define, in later life What her love means to me And it keeps me struggling to remember, my first touch of spring. Was there a touch of spring, in the air? And did she have a pink dress on? And when she smiled, her shyest smile Could you almost touch the warmth? Was it your first love, A very precious, very precious, very precious time, time.
A very special time - the time Gil was on the earth blessing us with his supernatural gift - the music . He left many powerful songs - " equator ... divider .... equate us and combine us ...a gift to us from spirits on high .... check out the Spirits cd .
Heard my son tell his friend tonight "now you know...living with my Mom all these years...I know everything there is to know about Gil...every song...every band...everything!
Lord Krishna the Black Skinned He who is like God Gil was beyond Racism is his later life. life and love have nothing to so with the color of a person's skin. we are all spirit beings inhabiting and learning in a physical world. the funny thing is.. You were probably a white slave master in your last life, so please don't bring this racist b.s. to RU-vid. enlighten yourself instead. "brother:"
I saw him less than a year before he passed in one of the Super Lounges at the Essence Fest in New Orleans. A transcendental experience. He was without a doubt a musical genius and a true poet. Never has a voice so perfectly matched its lyrics. I still have Winter in America on vinyl. Thank you so much for this.
Hi my name is Teresa Theresa have a daughter named Piper and my dearest friend passed away this year you'll Scott here and Scott Heron was literally truly one of his most favorite artists and play regardless and mine the song always reminded us of my daughter when she was little with her pink dress in the Spring I'm gonna cry every single
