bring me my jazz
Venice has her midnight
I as love
no stranger to the shore
with a bucket full of suicide
a carpet bag
with a sweet smell of procure;
cured of prejudice
that toddlin town
Chicago bound
a closer walk with thee
anyone else but me
after you've gone
tiger town will burn my staunch belief;
bad penny blues
tap-toe shoes
bouncing with a cargo of a landmine clarinet.
tin roof blues
with onions in my hair
cry me a river
cripple creek and back
a hacksaw through the trumpet to the king;
where lingers sea-salt
selling fish for remedies ballooned
watch Maple rag
and bone as ramblers do!
somewhere soon
sex behind the keyboard for the blue
me and you
pacifist and a boogie-woogie bitch of soft repose;
what shape is this
that dangles toes
and strangles hell.
Napoleon in rags
smoking shag through the stomach of a toad
shooting load for sentence of the street
where beckons love of crucifix
where carnivore and the whores on seventh street
drink my jazz
and boogie through the trumpet of a cork;
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 4th, 2023 15:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- User favorite of this poem: Teddy.15.
Offline)
Comments2
Jazz has so many faces as you have beautifully composed in this poetry, I personally love soft jazz. When I was a child I felt my life was surrounded by messy jazz which I can still hear today in dark moments. A fantastic creative piece here dearest Melvin, you have tormented and elated my very mind in less than 60 seconds.
To say you inspire is an understatement ❤️
Sunday mornings listening to jazz with my dad.
Kenny Ball being his favourite, among many others.
fond memories.
thank you Teddy;
Superb my friend. Reminds me of Cohen.
writing Jazz while watching Cohen's live in London CD.
well spotted Thomas.
thank you.
Very Cool.
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