Jazz Poems

FOR SIDNEY BECHET

That note you hold, narrowing and rising, shakes

Like New Orleans reflected on the water,

And in all ears appropriate falsehood wakes,

Building for some a legendary Quarter

Of balconies, flower-baskets and quadrilles,

Everyone making love and going shares–

Oh, play that thing! Mute glorious Storyvilles

Others may license, grouping round their chairs

Sporting-house girls like circus tigers (priced

Far above rubies) to pretend their fads,

While scholars manqués nod around unnoticed

Wrapped up in personnels like old plaids.

On me your voice falls as they say love should,

Like an enormous yes. My Crescent City

Is where your speech alone is understood,

And greeted as the natural noise of good,

Scattering long-haired grief and scored pity.

PHILIP LARKIN

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

SUITE TABU 200

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Jazz Poems

BLACK AND BLUE

(WHAT DID I DO TO BE SO BLACK AND BLUE)

VERSE

Out in the street,

Shufflin’ feet,

Couples passin’ two by two,

While here am I,

Left high and dry, black, and ‘cause i’m black I’m blue.

Browns and yellers

All have fellers,

Gentlemen prefer them light.

Wish I could fade,

Can’t makee the grade,

Nothin’ but dark days in sight.

REFRAIN

Cold empty bed,

Springs hard as lead,

Pains in my head,

Feels like old Ned,

What did I do

To be so black and blue?

No joys for me,

No company,

Even the mouse

Ran from my house,

All my life through

I’ve been so black and blue.I’m white

Inside,

It don’t help my case

‘Cause I

Can’t hide

What is on my face,ooh!

I’m so forlorn,

Life’s just a thorn,

My heart is torn,

Why was I born?

What did I do

To be so black and blue?

REFRAIN

Just ‘cause you’re black,

Folks think you lack,

They laugh at you

And scornyou too,

What did I do

To be so black and blue?

When you are near,

They laugh and sneer,

Set you aside

And you’re denied,

What did I do

To be so black and blue?

How sad I am

Each day I feel worse,

My mark of Ham

Seems to be a curse, ooh!

How will it end?

Ain’t got a friend,

My only sin

Is in my skin,

What did I do

To be so black and blue?

ANDY RAZAF | 1895~1973

MUSIC BY THOMAS “FATS” WALLER

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

SUITE TABU 200

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Jazz Poems

JAZZ

It starts with an alto horn, and a young 

boy who’d grown faster than he should have, and 

who’d become great before he should have, and 

who sought for the source of the feeling deep in-

side before he should have. He stood in his room 

and started with a short burst of notes, and then 

sought the tone he’d felt inside him, but which 

he couldn’t match he couldn’t match by blowing. 

He blew, fast, and beautifully; seeking the right 

burst of notes, notes blown so fast that only God’s 

perfection would be a match for it. He tried for 

a tone that he’d never heard, but which he knew 

as a sensation of mystery, of greatness, a feeling 

that he was bigger than he seemed to be, could 

blow faster than his fingers were letting him,

could cry out the tone that cried within him. All 

this strained inside him, strained and drove him, 

pushed him and made him whip his fingers upon 

the valves of his horn until they hurt. And his 

lungs seemed to bleed inside; his eyes ran water,

and he kept blowing, and blowing, with his eyes 

closed to the white of the daytime and the touch 

of the wind and the sound of the fists banging 

at the door, and the bark of the voices outside

his door, shouting: Open up! It’s the police!

What’s going on in there?

FRANK LONDON BROWN

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

SUITE TABU 200

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Jazz Poems

CHASING THE BIRD

The sun sets unevenly and the people

go to bed.

The night has a thousand eyes.

The clouds are low, overhead.

Every night it is a little bit

more difficult, a little

harder. My mind

to me a mangle is.

ROBERT CREELEY

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

SUITE TABU 200

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Jazz Poems

CHARLIE PARKER BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION, TOMPKINS SQUARE PARK

I was telling you about that junkie wannabe

from Wall Street who OD’ed last week

on Explosion 2000 on that street corner

right over there when KABOOM! You kissed me

smack on the lips just as “Confirmation” kicked in.

Just as Venusin two-toned dreadlocks and a skin-tight

smock danced from the band shell with her pet python,

Bodyguard, to “All the Things You Are.”

Just as punk rockers rocked, in-flowered on sheets,

sipped smoothies and smoked,

Their hair spirited to pastel auras, rosehip,

Island lime, a shade of blue just washed by rain.

Just as Ukraine checkmated, as twins seesawed,

As bikers cracked smiles in the Hari-Hari, the slap-

tongue of sax. At the mommies and the poppies. Just as.

And they were doing the brothers in descending order.

The three brothers Heath: Percy, Jimmy, call him “Little Bird,”

And Albert “Tootie” Heath. With Milt Jackson on vibes,

three score and twelve, and still working. Two boys in love

Grooved, one in white pants and sailor hat,

the other in a buffalo nickel belt that bedazzled.

They sat on the park bench eating falafel.

A man with one leg sold charms for a dollar. For luck.

For the music that day and the light, you could say it

was all bell-bottomed and swaybacked. Young-like.

And your kiss. All at once I was riding a sparkling gold Schwinn bike.

Something in my head went from full torpor to starburst:

as if whetted by some wild vibranto, your kiss,

the vibes’ licks cleared my vision of fizz for an instant.

What had been all Midnight Dragon was now

a Tropicana-Pure-Premium-sharpened C

delivered as of this morning to the Santa Barbara Deli

and Superetti down the street. Just like that.

In your arms and the music and the light, I thought I might

>go plumb or Penteostal, lay down on the grass, recite

Kahlil, take up knitting, eat pickles and marry you–

Tell that priest to stop playing Frisbee with the lab

so we can say our vows right here and now before “Tenor Madness”

ends! Opps! I forget we’re already married! Just as.

CATHERINE BOWMAN

from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young

SUITE TABU 200

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