Some Call It Jazz
Evening like orange groves of joy
Joy with thunder and wind
Rain as free as rivers
Natural love with no melancholy hills
Bass runs in jazz joy
Quiet and peace in the sax notes
Laid back and mellow
Drummer plays like a mystic
Trumpet glows like stars
Piano chords with space and magic
Leave your rueful side streets
No games
No class
Just music as sweet as life
Some call it jazz
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
JAZZ and RAINBOWS
What is Jazz - What is a Rainbow?
You can ask the questions - don't expect answers
Jazz is free and yet constrained
Rainbows come and go as they please
Jazz is wild and yet restrained
Rainbow can't exist without rain
Jazz is open and yet contained
Rainbows always have red at the top
Jazz is unscored and yet maintained
Rainbows can be single - double - triple
Just as Jango Rheinhardt said to Segovia
Senor it ees all in ze 'ed
The same is true of rainbows
Zey are all inside my 'ed!
It takes all the colours of pure white sound
To create jazz.
It takes all the colours of pure white light
To create a rainbow.
Jazz and rainbows operate on the same principle
In jazz the tone colours are separated by the players
In a rainbow the visible colours are separated by a raindrop
Jazz and rainbows are boh equally beautiful.
After the rain there are stll some drops in the atmosphere
They refract the white light into R O Y G B I V,
In the same way the 'Jazz Combo' is able to dissect.
The white sound of music is disected by the musicains
On a sunny day - the white light hits the raindrop
The colours are dispersed forming the rainbow.
In jazz - each member if the Combo has a colour!
The double bass has red - the saxaphone is orange!
The percussion is yellow - the brass is green
The clarinet is blue - trhe banjo is indigo
The guitar is violet and the piano is striped!
The combo plays and whiite sound is re-produced.
Because we are humans our senses of life are acute.
Our eyes for colour and our ears for sound.
The quality of this provision enables us to distinguish colour
And to distinguish between all the tones and semi-tones.
So next time you see a rainbow - think jazz
And the rainbow will dance for you
Next time you hear some jazzy jazz - think rainbow
And the tone colours of the jazz will spring out at you.
(John Knight - Colchester - October 2009)
poem by John Knight
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American Style
Violet trees waiting for jazz
Count Basie shelters the urban rose
Dreams rest like the wind making love
Sweet serotonin in pagoda gowns
When you whisper I get hard
Kenny Burrell marvelous like stars
Moves like a good drummer
Darling your hands make music
Billie Holiday never played with dolls
I write your name on abstract jungles
Cities where Duke Ellington played
Stand up Bass talks like Chicago
Scales from India and Africa
Chromatic silk blue as New Orleans
Blue Note
Existential sax
Golden trumpet, Miles in France
There are no mistakes
Democracy on a piano
American Style and Gumbo
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician
I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Courtney Pine
Listen to me now,
For there is a sound of music flowing in the air;
Listen to me now,
For the melody of a realm is about to touch you and teach you;
And, to 'Courtney Pine' i do pay my respect.
Listen to me now,
For the message will infuse your brains with Jazz! !
And, to 'Courtney Pine' i do give my respect;
However, it is very important to listen to the words of our elders.
The Jazz music of 'Courtney Pine',
it is very important to learn from him as well;
So, listen to the sweet music of Jazz that he plays!
For the melody of this realm is about to touch you and teach you.
to the muse of music,
From the lessons he learnt from 'Mac Tontoh';
And to swing up with his mind so sweet! !
From the Jazz world of love and to the Jazz world of peace,
But, you've got to be somebody for someone on this earth.
Hope is a beautiful mind in your heart's desires,
But you are of the courteous order of the realms!
And, you are unifying us with your Jazz Music;
For, you're paired in nature's endeavours.
'Courtney Pine',
Nurturing everybody with the 'Order of the British Empire' (O.B.E.) !
But, you are placed in nature's endeavours to educate the youth;
And like the muse of your love when you paid Ghana a visit.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Enter Jazz
In the past few weeks
(1995, I think)
A whole field of music
Has knocked on my door.
Jazz has made my acquaintance.
Jazz who has always before
Seemed so stale, so staid,
So stuck in a groove
Sometime back in the thirties,
Jazz now emerges
As the most delightful companion.
I first noticed
My new friend
On the Voice of America,
A sudden lightness of spirit
Lighting up my room
Through the transistor radio.
Then Nancy, Carolyn's mum in Ferny Creek,
Turned out to be a jazz fan
With a collection of cassettes,
And I abandoned myself
To jazz's invitation
To dance,
Easy, free-flowing steps
Up and down
The lounge-room carpet.
Last night
The friendship firmed further:
In the E.G. Guide
Was listed a jazz trio
Which they claimed could be heard
At the Albert Park Hotel
Not far away.
The trio swelled to seven or eight musicians
As the evening unfolded
And I drank in the rhythms
Of what a chat with their apparent leader, Bill,
Revealed was traditional jazz
In the Chicago style,
So sweet, so gentle, so softly swinging.
Jazz took my arm
And smiled.
I have a new friend.
poem by Peter Elliott
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Wings of Flow
Highlands like angels with octaves
Species of moon tribes glow
Tremolo faces smile like rainbows
Rewarded for the cascades
Seminal forests rain their new seed
We are children without pain
She kisses me with true endings
The moment burns without time
Huxley, Blake
Welcome purple fire
Organic waves of lush life
Soul angels
Shorelines stretch the horizon
Blue tides
Jazz sea where blues drown
Keyboards of semitones
No sedition
Reverberate your celibate energy
Cadence dances like painted warriors
We are the divine stones
Love is a humble rain
Mellow like friends of dawn
Born into the whispering generations
Ruins of progeny
Wings of 6th chords and major 7th’s
Close your eyes and join the river
Wrapped in bending notes
Dream like flowers
The bass is as warm as youth
Acoustic guitar with songbirds
Music is a mystic circle
Lets swim my love forever
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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I love music, I love all kinds of music, particularly jazz. Jazz is an extension of America. There's no other country in the world that could have produced jazz.
quote by Jon Huntsman, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blues, The Jazz, The City
The city is jazz under neon lights
The jazz is blues stoned
And the city never forgets this
Like the heart never forgets to pulse
And the stars never forget to shine in the night
But it takes jazz to move it, to move it all
So the jazz is the beat that always burns
So the heavens continue to shine on and shine all
The jazz soothes the souls of the children
Though the city is old, the jazz is young
Thus the jazz, fast and heavy, radiates the city
She returns her to her ember glow in night
The city is high on the hill and low in the valley
She is the heart, the blessed nectar, the blossom shower
The jazz glows in prosperous tombs
She serves the crashing wave of the monsoon, to the city's bay, to the ancient harbor, across bold rivers, to lakes nestled in the safety of moors and battlefields, and sings to the forest and soaks the timber and every reborn city is cloaked in the fingertip of jazz
Since jazz destroys and creates, it is the fire, and so the smoke rises higher
Hark the newborn guff of jazz
The baptized funeral pyre
Hench jazz is the gospel, the good news
She returns though, always to the blues
Love the blue lady, her old cracked voice
The blues, the jazz, and the lady unite
To the bravery of her song she sang to the evil eyes of the Kodak dragon whose hair in the hiding bear under masks of hatred
The jealous lair, the haunt of despair
And jazz shines on, they can't stop her
The lady of the city sings to the farm
No choir can match the timbre of the lady
My first love,
She shines on for me when I am sad, through me in melancholy
And we join in joy, the lady sees all, feels all, and sings on
Rambunctious be the lady, the city, the blues
Who beat for hearts at night
From the slide trombone, the tut-tut-tut of the mighty snare
The brass milieu for brighter days and neon lights
The whimper
The whimper of the stand-up bass, who carries the beat, the jazz, the blues, the night
In your arms I am safe and sound, the sounds who hold me tight
And above all, upon the highest peak, the great black giants, the black hands and breath of jazz, food for the soul and fodder, who inspire all in the world
But the two giants upon the highest mountain compete for the night and walk away friends as we do
They too are the shine, the noble sheen, and while the lady sings, they dance, the boozers hound and prance, the lovers kneel and romance and the giants push the pebbles from beneath their mountain feet
Who knows how many souls the jazz saved, but I know she saved mine
The giants, trumpet and sax, and even the sweet other of New Orleans, a trumpet and voice, a demigod, and every other band and face and time
So the jazz soothed them too to be saved, as they played, we all played, and jazz shines for the night
And Jack drew the map in sketches, he saw the jazz, but the jazz sees all, and saves all who smile upon her because she loves all, but can only save those who hear her call because she is human
She is so human
She is the city of light of darkest night
But most of all I think on the lady
The lady is the city, sitting pretty, in a jam
The jam
The beat
The jazz
The lady
The city
The blues
Pushed forward by strongest beat, what a feat, and the children eat their meat
And meet those they should, the jazz rumbles on, singing the song, nothing wrong
And the lady smiles always because she is the beat of my heart, my soul
She blooms my flower
She waves my sound
She smiles
Smiles
The lady
With her cracked somber voice of the blues, the city, and jazz
She the great bell, cracked, she chimes for liberty, she chimes for freedom of the endless soul she saves
And the giants steamroll her, the angel ember young
And she flies in heaven where she belongs, singing for the city, the blues, the jazz
And love
poem by Jay Bradley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House Of Jazz
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin' and a fightin' on a TV show
Lightin' blindin' in the middle of the road
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap 'n' tickler
To make you growl
Spitin' and bitin' on a TV show
Tightenin' frightenin' givin' out a load
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Come on in
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin' in
Are you comin' in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
song performed by by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feel The Music
What is music and why is it here?
Music is made for the ear.
To be made and played for many of decades.
To be embraced by different cultures and race,
Music
the heart of man
Only it seems now only a few understand
Music.
The upbeat the down beat the chords the rhythm it plays.
Exchanging and changing forever.
Music.
Not one man can take the responsibility for making the music the music made us.
You have to trust in the
Music
Classical Jazz, Swing, Country everything it brings.
Music.
Although music has a lot of names it will always remain the same
Music will always change.
The dramatic character of a story.
It will always end with the final glory.
Because of its graceful authority
music
Don't make music that embraces no heart
Make music that shall shine threw the dark.
Music lives every where.
Creating our atmosphere.
Our world circulates by the beat the music makes
So listen to the music see what is hidden in side.
Listen to the music shhhh! Close your eyes.
Unknown music is everywhere.
So open your ears stand clear
music it is taking over so beware!
There is no escaping
There is no replacing
There is no other so there is no point of looking further my brotha.
Without music where would I be?
It took sweet love music to create me.
The songs of Al green and Barry White stimulated the body so it is no fighting the
Music
Because the music doesn't fight u it hugs u kisses u loves u
Cause the music only can be true
'Lets make music', I've it heard said
But making music is not just in the bed
Music is made threw gospel beats threw the songs of rappers through the notes of the streets.
So let's make music my friend.
A sad moment in your life
'The rain is on your window pane' as Mary J. explains threw a song.
What more do I have to say music is made to be played.
There is no escapade
It is understood music is what it should be
Music is what it will always be
Okay! U understand now so read the music
That sings threw me
Read the music it is written so clearly
read my music
Make your own beat
So let me ask u do u feel the music that I've Just made
Do you feel the music running through your veins
Do you feel the music in my poetry song
Well, if u don't feel the music then something is wrong
Cause music are written in these words
just listen hush! Cause music will be heard
BY: TIFFANY BURTON
THE LOVE OF MUSIC INSPIRED ME
Ó 2006 Tiffany Burton
poem by Tiffany Burton
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Tribute To Jazz Music
TRIBUTE TO JAZZ MUSIC
I can feel its rhythm and beat,
And also its pulsating pain,
Its music flows freely,
Through my arteries and veins!
Its beats always echoes,
Through the corridors of my mind,
As I get wafted, on the wings of time!
Its music gets synchronized,
With my heart’s muffled beats,
As I try to keep time, -
With the tapping of my feet!
Each of its pulsating rhythm,
And all its background chimes,
With syncopated lilts,
Jazz remains harmonized!
The piano players dancing fingers,
Caresses a rhythmic sway,
While the Sax’s deep throated tenor,
Drives my loneliness away!
When I hear my old jazz music,
And those golden classic tunes,
I forget I am getting old,
To time I become immune!
I begin to feel like the old King Cole,
As the music tingles my mind,
An rejuvenates my soul!
- Raj Nandy
- New Delhi
(Being a lover of classical Jazz, I had written
this poem as a tribute!)
Tenorman
Sweet sad young tenor
Horn slumped around neck
Bearded full of junk
Slouches waiting
For Apocalypse,
Listens to the new
Negro raw trumpet kid
Tell him the wooden news;
And the beat of the bass
The bass—drives in
Drummer drops a bomb
Piano tinkle tackles
Sweet tenor lifting
All American sorrows
Raises mouthpiece to mouth
And blows to finger
The iron sounds
poem by Jack Kerouac
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All That Jazz
I thought they were over.
All those lonely years.
Souls rolling in clover.
Until the mirage disappears.
Now I kiss the moon adieu.
As on my window pane
Run the tears of rain.
And music
Ascends in blue.
All that jazz
Plays back to me
As we danced
And kissed with urgency.
These memories stab
As they fly.
Oh God
Who wouldn't cry.
I thought I was your lover.
After all my scars had healed.
Never knew
I would recover.
Until your beauty was revealed.
You rescued me my dear.
Shipwrecked
And trembling.
Now all That jazz I hear.
Played back to me.
Cruelly assembling
A mental picture
In a frame.
Of you and I,
Waving goodbye
To a love I couldn't tame.
Oh God
Who wouldn't cry.
poem by Kevin East
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House Of Jazz
(young - young)
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin and a fightin on a tv show
Lightin blindin in the middle of the road
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz, yes
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap n tickler
To make you growl
A spitin and bitin on a tv show
Tightenin frightenin givin out a load
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Come on in
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love You More
Space between the kisses
Paris blue art
Color like the melting candle
Delivered from restrictive structure
Meaning in the relative streets
The times between the wars
Freedom like surreal gold wings
The mind is the greatest drug
I open to jazz like a hungry lion
Breeze washes through the trees
You are the Chloe of art
Bass notes rich with sultry life
Slow deep sax notes
Emotion brings new clouds
Opaque joy
Radiant past connected with narrow alleys
Universal light in sunsets of purple whispers
The baby cries in the other room
We always make love
We are sensuous rivers
Balcony dawn
French Quarter wrought iron
Parades that drift like a Dali painting
You are spring my love in Hawaii
You are Prague and Kafka
You are Monroe in silk stockings
Miles Davis and Coltrane make me love You more
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Fats
Check out fats, hes a real cool cat
Hes got a black and white tux with lots of class
He says, I love that jazz. I love that razz-ma-tazz. i love to swing.
I just go crazy when you give me room to do my thing. thats fats
Well, check out fats, hes a real cool cat
Hes got bright white spats and sharp dark trilby hat
Hes got a chick thats slick and I like her looks
And I like the way her lipstick, it matches the carnation on his tux
I love his jazz, I love his style, it makes me feel so nice
Oh fats, wont you play for ma a while? thats fats
Oh well, sigmund freud, he gets very annoyed
He was checking out fats and waller just dont like that cat
He said, I dont like his looks, I dont like his fashion.
I love his jazz, I love his style, it makes me feel so nice
Oh fats, wont you play for me a while? not that fats
Hes such a real cool cat, thats fats. nobody plays that jazz, not like fats
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fats
Check out fats, hes a real cool cat
Hes got a black and white tux with lots of class
He says, I love that jazz. I love that razz-ma-tazz. i love to swing.
I just go crazy when you give me room to do my thing. thats fats
Well, check out fats, hes a real cool cat
Hes got bright white spats and sharp dark trilby hat
Hes got a chick thats slick and I like her looks
And I like the way her lipstick, it matches the carnation on his tux
I love his jazz, I love his style, it makes me feel so nice
Oh fats, wont you play for ma a while? thats fats
Oh well, sigmund freud, he gets very annoyed
He was checking out fats and waller just dont like that cat
He said, I dont like his looks, I dont like his fashion.
I love his jazz, I love his style, it makes me feel so nice
Oh fats, wont you play for me a while? not that fats
Hes such a real cool cat, thats fats. nobody plays that jazz, not like fats
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Music Eternal Is Divine!
Trumpet and drum music denote military band;
Guitar and piano music denote melodious score;
Clarinet and flute music denote pastoral melody;
Violin and all organ music denote symphony fine;
Jazz, maestro and symphony musics make all high!
Music acts as background for joy, sorrow and war;
Music makes all moods for man to move on in life;
Music creates a world of love, dream and fantasy;
Music as love has no beginning and end in influence;
Music whether East or West is divine as Nature is!
Confluence of Nature, music and dance is divine beauty
That elevates human spirit to divine spirit eternally!
poem by Ramesh T A
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My mother was a jazz fanatic and she wanted me to play the piano so I could play jazz tunes. I wish I had learned but I was too busy getting into trouble!
quote by Etta James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In jazz, you listen to what the bass player is doing and what the drummer is doing, what the pianist and the guitarist is doing, and then you play something that compliments that, so you are thinking simultaneously and thinking ahead.
quote by David Amram
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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