JAZZ
Silky smooth like satin shimmering,
simmering in the sunshine.
So seductive with its slick, sensitive,
but yet selective syncopation.
Sophomores need not apply,
it’s the senior circuit.
The down beat like ground meat.
The printed dots on the sound sheet.
No need to run and tell the others
‘Cause it’s for right now.
It won’t be here when you get back.
It’s all for right now.
As quickly as it appears it disappears.
No re-runs, no repetition, no Mulligan’s.
No do-over’s, it’s all brand new,
All day, everyday, 2-4-7-3-6-5.
It’s illusive and exclusive;
It can even be abusive.
No one person owns it.
Have you ever witnessed the moist morning haze?
What if you wanted to take some of that for your own; gather some of it up and keep it
so you can show others?
Can’t do it!
You can experience it,
You can enjoy it,
You can acknowledge its beauty,
But you can’t keep it for yourself.
You can’t make it stay.
You can’t make it go away.
Because it “is what it is”.
It “does what it does”.
It doesn't’t care what you think of it.
It doesn’t listen to what you say.
It comes when it wants to,
And when it wants, it goes away.
It’s this 'thing' I’m talking about.
This 'thing' has a short life-span.
It only lives for a second or two.
You create it, hear it,
Then it’s gone forever.
You can record it,
Or write it down.
But they’re only reproductions;
Man’s attempt to replicate it,
Duplicate it,
Confiscate it,
Dominate it,
Capture it, break it and make it be and do
What he so chooses.
But over and over again, he losses.
He’s surrendered to love.
He admits he can’t control love.
He has bowed down graciously to love.
So why can’t he admit this?
Why does he continue to pretend he owns this?
That he has mastered this?
That he controls this and continues to use
its name in vain.
He simply can’t accept the fact that Jazz is King!
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I Ask Of Little From It All
I ask of little from it all.
I don’t want kings or queens to call.
No platter mined from silver ore.
I’m of the thought that less is more.
But valued gifts seem far too far
Beyond my reach, this distant star.
Though it’s not much
in scheme of things.
Still not to me the singer sings.
I once had dreams so grand and large
That they could fill a worthy barge.
But they somehow stayed out at sea
And never would deliver me.
I ask of little from it all.
Just the chance to scale the wall.
The metamorphosis complete.
A ghostly future now I meet.
One part worse, The other best,
The timing wasn't my request.
Although it’s all irrelevant,
It stands there like an elephant.
Strangely quiet, but commanding still,
I view it from my window sill.
It dare not ever look at me.
That’s my responsibility.
But I could look the other way,
Like others do most everyday.
They gladly take the little crumb,
And pray that there is more to come.
As the crumb lies few and far,
Reminds them who they really are.
How can they not pursue their dream?
But live by someone else’s scheme.
They feel it’s either this or none,
And say they’re not the only one.
From this they scrape up some relief.
All their apples, one belief.
They’re told that soon
their day will come.
That keeps them quiet,
calm and numb.
I ask of little from it all.
A rail, a crutch to break my fall.
Just so I won’t skin my knee,
Or rip my pants, that’s all you see.
Instead I must find other plans.
That won’t be course
or hurt my hands.
Still it hurts, my fingers bleed,
And I am still not up to speed.
I could rant and rave and curse,
Or simply say, “It could be worse”.
“It could be worse” that’s our excuse.
Like making comfortable a noose.
I ask of little from it all.
With frozen feet right there I stall.
Less of motion, dry of thought,
A road of thorns this thing I bought.
I could withdraw and settle down,
Go through my time without a crown.
Exactly this I sometimes do
Until the elephant breaks through.
And barrels right down to my core.
Convinces me to want for more.
And all the peaceful time accrued
Is smashed by something
large and rude.
It then retreats I know not where,
And maybe this time it stays there.
As I plod through day to day,
I try to think right here I’ll stay.
But out to him I soon will call,
“I ask of little from it all”.
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Our First Date
Gather up your things
But don’t take too long
No don’t take that
That kind-of thing’s all wrong
It’s a one-way ticket
And you need to travel light
We’re gonna take the back roads,
Moving most the time at night.
Please don’t ask questions
Just do what I say
I’ll tell you all about it
When we’re safe and far away
Don’t speak to strangers.
Don’t let them see your eyes.
It would be even better
If you could wear a slick disguise.
Sure, I can feel the pressure
I can sense the squeeze
But I can’t let that stop me
Too far out on this trapeze
Get-a-hold of your emotions
There’s no time for therapy
Right now, in the moment
Is where I need to be.
You’re doing fine and dandy
Oh, how quickly you learn
These tricks will come in handy
When it’s your turn
We’ll keep the pace ‘till daylight
Then we’ll lay real low and wait
Soak up a-little sunshine
Out here on our first date.
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Melody, or Harmony Is it the melody that drives us?
Is it the independence and randomness
of the melody that we so love and desire?
Or is it the documentation aspect
that we appreciate.
Is it how the notes read like footprints,
marking our route from there to here?
Is it our personal proof that we once existed
and plotted a course?
If the notes of the melody were colors,
lines, shapes or forms would it paint our individual portraits?
Or would the image resemble something that we’ve never known but have longed to be.
Why is it that others strive for harmony?
They prefer to be a tone within a chord
rather than the independent note.
Their wish is to intertwine with the likes of others;
Blending rather than sounding a tone
on their own; all alone.
The individual statement
is less important to them.
It’s the contribution of the group
that matters most.
They find comfort and warmth in the chord or harmonic progression.
Is melody actually harmony?
Are they one in the same?
Or is one simply the by-product of the other? Do they really exist at all, or is it our way of (once again) over-complicating things? Dividing things… classifying things… Is this the source of our bigotry?
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Too Big For Me
The vastness of the sky
The endless stretch of sea
The fields that catch my eye
They’re just too big for me
A tree with trunk so wide
Shade from canopy
I rest there by its side
It’s just too big for me
Injustice in our world,
An ill society
I want to make it well
But it’s just too big for me
I long to make you laugh
I’d love to make you free
I’d cleanse you like a bath
But it’s just too big for me
If I could stretch my arms
Throughout eternity
I’d hold back all life’s harms
But it’s just too big for me
Every blade of grass
Every face I see
Every shard of glass
Every honey bee
All the leaves that fall
All the lonely souls
All the dreams that stall
All the hearts with holes
A tiny grain of sand
A simple drop of rain
A little piece of land
The slightest ache or pain
Every tear that drops
Every harmony
Every love that stops
Each fugue or symphony
Each day that passes by
Each possibility
All these things am I
I’m just too big for me.
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