Jazz Poems
LISTENING TO SONNY ROLLINS AT THE FIVE SPOT There will many other nights like this be standing here with someone, some one someone some-one some some some some some some one there will be other songs a-nother fall, another–spring, but there will never be a-noth, noth anoth noth anoth-er noth-er noth-er Other lips that I may kiss but they won’t thrill me like thrill me like like yours used to dream a million dreams but how can they come when there never be a-noth– Paul BlackburnFrom Jazz Poems | Selected and edited by Kevin Young
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Jazz Poems
SNAKE-BLACK SOLO For Louis Armstrong, Steve Cannon, Miles Davis & Eugene Redmond with the music up high boogaloo bass down way way low up & under eye come slidin on in mojoin on in spacin on in on a riff full of rain riffin on in full of rain & pain spacin on in on a sound like coltrane my metaphor is a blues hot pain dealin blues is a blues axin guitar voices whiskey broken niggah deep in the heart is a blues in a glass filled with rain is a blues in the dark slurred voices of straight bourbon is a blues dagger stuck off in the heart of night moanin blike bessie smith is a blues filling up the wings of darkness is a blues & looking through the heart a dream can become a raindrop window to see through can become a window to see through this moment to see yourself hanging around the dark to see through can become a river catching rain feeding time can become a window to see through Quincy Troupefrom Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young
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Jazz Poems
THE BLUES OF THIS DAY The blues of this day are as elegant and as sad as the minor thirds and we all try to sing it. What we want is to be brass The horn-scratched voice blown through. Valves as golden as his. Lord as crazy sex or first real heartbreak. It was always his back slightly bent away from all of us who adored him, gazing across his shoulders as the band jumped into the party one solo at a ti Or they could be rocking way off-ke going as far away from the melody as Venus to Mars. Funk can be as easy as t getting together in the dark. And as hard as the breaking light that catches the throat of sated lovers, the morning after. The talk the night before by the last of his men who knew the way of the world and then some, about Miles and his two steps ahead of the century like the first Black man to leave the Delta humming I gotta go, but I can’t take you. I gotta go, but I can’t take you. If you want to follow, then do what you want to do. Patricia Spears Jonesfrom Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young
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Jazz Poems
WALKING PARKER HOME
Sweet beats of jazz impaled on slivers of wind Kansas Black Morning/First Horn Eyes/ Historical sound pictures on New Bird wings People shouts/ boy alto dreams/ Tomorrow’s Gold belled pipe of stops and future Blues Times Lurking Hawkins/ shadows of Lester/ realization Bronzer fingers–brain extensions seeking trapped sounds Ghetto thoughts/ bandstand courage/ solo flight Nerve-wracked suspicions of never songs and doubts New York altar city/ black tears/ secret disciples Hammer horn pounding soul markson unswinging gates Cultural gods/ mob sounds/ visions of spikes Panic excursions to tribal Jazz wombs and transfusions Heroin nights of birth/ and soaring/ over boppy new ground Smothered rage covering pyramids of notes spontaneously exploding Cool revelations/ shrill hopes/beauty speared into greedy ears Birdland nights on bop mountains, windy saxophone revolutions. Dayrooms of junk/ and melting walls and circling vultures/ Money cancer/ remembered pain/ terror flights/ Death and indestructible existence In that Jazz corner of life Wrapped in a mist of sound His legacy, our Jazz-tinted dawn Wailing his triumphs of oddly begotten dreams Inviting the nerveless to feel once more That fierce dying of humans consumed In raging fires of Love.
BOB KAUFMAN
from Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young
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Jazz Poems
MOOD INDIGO it hasn’t always been this way ellington was not a street robeson no mere memory du bois walked up my father’s stairs hummed some time over me sleeping in the company of men who changed the world it wasn’t always like this why ray barretto used to be a side-man & dizzy’s hair was not always grey i remember i was there i listened in the company of men politics as necessary as collards music even in our dreams our house was filled with all kinds of folks our windows were not cement or steel our doors opened like our daddy’s arms held us safe & loved children growing in the company of men old southern men & young slick ones sonny til was not a boy the clovers no rag-tag orphans our crooners/ we belonged to a whole world nkrumah was no foreigner virgil aikens was not the only fighter it hasn’t always been this way ellington was not a street NTOZAKE SHANGEfrom Jazz Poems ~ Selected and Edited by Kevin Young
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