Jazz and The Hobo
It was a Saturday morning
And you were 19
and you were racing along
Victoria Street having just left
Victoria Railway Station
on your way to Dobell's
Jazz Record Shop
moving quickly
through the sea
of humanity
thinking of jazz
and what record
you were going to buy
at the shop that day
imaging yourself
fingering through LP sleeves
taking a mental note
of which one
you might buy
a John Coltrane or Miles Davis
an Art Blakey or maybe
a Dizzy Gillespie
a jazz record being played
over the loudspeakers
in the shop
you mingling with others
in the crowded place
when this hobo stopped you
taking hold of your jacket gently
and said
have you got some small change
for a sandwich?
no
you replied
I haven't
and rushed on
through the crowd
fingering in your pocket
loose change
silvery coins
and his voice
in your head
as you raced along
and your conscience
nagging you
maybe the voice
of the believed in Christ
so you stopped
and turned around
and made your journey back
through the people
passing by
your fingers taking hold
of the coins
the silvery loose change
and there he was
the hobo asking others
the same question
and they too went by
shaking their heads
or saying
no sorry no change
and you took his hand
and put in the loose silver
into his open palm
and said
here go buy yourself
a sandwich or whatever
and you turned
and left looking over
your shoulder
and he stood there
staring at his palm
and the coins shining
in the morning sun
and then you looked ahead
thinking of the record shop
and the LPs and the jazz music
being played
but deep down
in some other part of you
you knew you'd given
to one who maybe
was hungry
and had unconsciously
prayed.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Henry and the Scheme of Things.
It was all part of the scheme
of things Henry thought and
even when the women looked
at him with that odd curiosity
he never failed (at least not in
the beginning) to make a score
usually with one of the females
less prettier than the ones who
left before and after taking her
for the drink and meal routine
and maybe to the cinema he took
her back to his place and poured
her a drink and put on a cool jazz
record on the hifi and set her down
on the sofa and she talked and he
watched her lips move the lipstick
red the kind his mother used to wear
and her nose was kind of pointed and
lifted up at the end and her words
went over his head he wasn't interested
in her philosophy of being or what
she had bought at the last sale he
studied her chin the way it rose and
fell as she spoke the words pouring
out and he said look Honey I know
you like to talk but how about you
and me going to bed? Oh she said I
haven't told you about the time I
went to New York and so Henry lay
back on the sofa closed his eyes
and let her talk a jazz saxophone
filling in behind her voice the record
turning her mouth opening and closing
and he thought of time passing and
remembering his mother's red lipstick
mouth scolding and after boredom had
set in deep he drifted off to sexless sleep.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jazz radio is not very friendly to pop singers who decide to make a jazz record. But a lot of people have been. A lot of the people I've talked to like the record.
quote by Rita Coolidge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Video Shop
The local factorys been pulled down
By an overseas corporation
Now all of my brothers are looking around
For alternative occupation
I was sitting by the telly with my brother, kenny
When suddenly the penny dropped
While all of my brothers are sitting at home
Ive got a bank loan and Ive opened up my very own
Video shop
Video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
Comedy and tragedy are all sitting on my shelf
And if youve got a fantasy
For a small rental fee
You can set yourself free
At my video shop
At my video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
At the video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
From all of the depression in you head
Caused by all the living in the red
Ive got a bootleg version of citizen kane
A second hand copy of psycho
Ive taped them off the telly so you shouldnt complain
And theres no guarantee youll get your money back again
From my video shop
My video shop
If you want to escape, I can rent you a tape
To relieve your situation
If you feel a bit low, I got a good peep show
cos everybody knows almost anything goes
At my video shop
At my video shop
One fifty a day and Ill fly, fly you away
Its nothing to pay to fly far, far away
I can help you through that lonely night
Ive got technicolour, black and white
I can guide you through those empty days
Make you smile and take your blues away
O let me fly you away
At my video shop
Fly, fly you away
Another factorys been knocked down
But nobody ever complains
And all of my brothers are customers now
We all play video games
I can see it in the eyes of all the lonely wives
If theyre bored and they feel like a change
I do sales, rentals, even a swop
And if you feel like a change, well it can all be arranged
At my video shop
At my video shop
At my video shop
At my video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
And everyone who walks in through that door
Has got something that theyre looking for
At my video shop
At my video shop
At the video shop
I can fly, fly you away
At the video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
Oh, at the video shop
Oh, at the video shop
Oh, at the video shop
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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I've always wanted to record a jazz record. I did one in the '70s with Barbara Carroll. It's been a journey.
quote by Rita Coolidge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Killing Themselves
Stalled at the fantasy stage
With wishes window shopped
And credit cards near maxed out.
Whims on lay-aways
Have a few more payments left.
With a need that searches for a reason,
Why such an item is desperately wanted!
If it was such a 'steal'...
Why is it taking so long to pay for?
It's too late to change your mind...
You will not get your money back!
It is store policy to dupe you with accompanying BS!
And remember those threats you made,
Of never returning to shop there again?
Taking your business elsewhere?
Well...
It appears as though they have a record of your previous
Statements WITH your apologies attached!
'I am STILL upset!
Regardless of your record keeping!
And I want that known!
AND...
I think it extremely rude of you to suggest
Making payments on a fifty dollar sweater
In increments of two dollars and twenty-five cents per month,
Is ridiculous!
Who's money is it?
And am I NOT the customer?
You people are lucky I keep you in business!
My great grandfather swept these floors! '
And we are arrogant enough to believe...
Our sense of 'who' we are,
Is worthy of combat in battle!
We are arrogant enough to believe,
People the world over are praying to be in our presence?
I think they fight to stay away from us!
Even killing themselves to prove it.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I always hated jazz guitar. I loved jazz saxophone but I hated jazz guitar. If I would buy an organ trio record I would make sure I'd buy one that did not have a guitar player on it. The sound was awful!
quote by Tom Verlaine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Record
Its funny you know,
cos theres an old rock n roller
Hes got nowhere to go.
Did you ever think of taking him in?
Somebody help him, somebody please.
Put another record on
cos he likes that song.
Its funny you know,
Ooh he never done nothing, done nobody wrong,
Did he think about changing his name,
But Im gonna tell him its the same old game.
Put another record on
Round and round and round and around - oh
Ah - see him smile.
Well lately Ive seen him
Walking down the street, kinda moving his feet,
Everyone I know looks the other way
Somebody help him, somebody say -
Put another record on
Round and round and round and around - oh
Ah - see him smile.
Its funny you know,
cos theres an old rock n roller
Hes got nowhere to go.
Did you ever think of taking him in?
Somebody help him, somebody please.
Just put another record on
Put another record on
Put another record on cos you know we like it
Put another record on cos you know we like it...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change! Change! Change!
change! change! change!
everybody talkin' about change.
change your look,
change your luck,
change your politics,
change your religion...
change the country,
change the world....
change the day!
change your underwear!
loose change, pocket change,
winds of change, march for change....
but all real change begins within...
let's work on that,
and then everything else
will change in turn!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I wanted to make a jazz record. I didn't want it to be a standards record.
quote by Rita Coolidge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Just For The Record
(fish, steve rothery, mark kelly, pete trewavas, ian mosley)
Manys the time Ive been thinking about changing my ways
But when it gets right down to it its the same drunken haze
Im serving a sentence to write lifes sentences
Its only when Im out of it I make sense of this
Just for the record Im gonna put it down, down
Just for the record Im gonna change my life around
Just a revolutionary with a pseudonym
Just a barroom dancer on my final fling
Just another writer paying off my dues
Just finding inspiration well thats my excuse
Just for the record Im gonna put it down, down
Just for the record Im gonna change my life around
Just another empty gesture with an empty glass
Just another comic actor behind a tragic mask
But Ive got no discipline got no self control
Just a little less painful here when my backs against the wall
Its too late, I found, its too far, Im in two minds
Both of them are out of it at the bar
When you say I got a problem thats a certainty
But I can put it all right down to eccentricity
Its just for the record its just a passing phase
Just for the record I can stop any day
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down the Sweet Shop
The little corner shop
full of special treats
Chocolate, bottles of Pop,
and jars and jars of sweets.
With pocket money in hand
given to me by my Dad
sometimes a little bit extra
if he heard I'd been a good lad.
I really loved that little shop
it was every young boys dream
you could get everything you'd want
Football Cards, Toys, and Ice-Cream.
My dad used the shop as well
he'd pop in to buy his fags
and Mum did her weekly shop
she'd get me to help her with the bags.
Then along came the big supermarket
the little shop began to lose it's trade
so sadly it had to close it's doors
an end of an era again I'm afraid.
But I'll always remember the little shop
stood there at the bottom of our lane
yes it may have only been small
but it had more style than any supermarket chain!
poem by Kevin Halls
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The Quality Of God
In torn dress a poor boy,
Was standing near a shop,
Greeding eyes of this boy,
Bare footed, seeking joy in the shop.
The shop was full of rich people,
There was selling garments and shoes,
Toys too, something in the shape of apple,
People were in fine dress and shoes.
Nobody paid heed at this boy,
And his eyes were tearful,
All were busy in buying toys,
But boy was standing thoughtful.
A lady came there who had bright eyes,
Accompanied the boy and entered the shop,
Bought for him garments, shoes and toys,
Buying all they left the shop.
Lady put her hand on his head,
'Go now' said with love,
Boy smiled and turned up his head,
' Are you God? ' asked with love.
She replied with smiling face,
'I'm His slave not God.'
Answered the boy with confidence,
'I knew that you must belong to God.'
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When radio stations started playing music the record companies started suing radio stations. They thought now that people could listen to music for free, who would want to buy a record in a record shop? But I think we all agree that radio stations are good stuff.
quote by Niklas Zennstrom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As If It Was A Crime
Your mother had given you
a few coins to buy sweets
and on the way you met Fay
and you said
do you want to come
and buy some sweets?
and she said
I haven't any money
and you said
you can share mine
if you tell me what you like
but she said
my father wouldn't like it
if I had sweets he says
they rot your teeth
but she walked to the shop with you
thinking silently to herself
and outside the shop
you said
are you sure?
she nodded and stood outside
while you went in
and bought sweets
when you came out
she was waiting there
her eyes gazing at you
her tongue running over
her lips
you showed her
what you'd bought
and her eyes widened
here take one
you said
your dad won't know
if you don't tell him
she hesitated
her fingers lingering
over the bag of sweets
but what if he sees me
or smells them
on my breath?
she said fear entering her eyes
her hands falling at her sides
you put out a hand
and touched hers
it's only a sweet
it's not as if
you're having a drag of a smoke
or sipping beer
she nodded and smiled a little
best not
she said
if he finds out
he'll get angry with me
for eating sweets and lying
and you remembered
the bruises you'd seen
on her arms and thighs
that time
and you sighed thinking
as if eating sweets
was a big deal or a crime.
poem by Terry Collett
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Top Rank Suite
Rain on the river
Turns the torrent to a flood
Swim or youll never rise above
Two lonely people
Can mend a broken heart
Love youll never fall apart
But can you tell me why?
They made a good bowl of chili at the jazz club
They played a good game of football in mucron
They got everyone off at the top rank babe
If you could ever get into their suite
Avenue tombola and social
We just drove right on by
We were on our way to the big time babe
To the great gold record in the sky
Sun in the morning
Brings the flowers from a bud
Hail to the giver
Life and love
Two lonely people
Can mend a broken heart
Love youll never fall apart
But can you tell me why?
They made a good bowl of chili at the jazz club
They played a good game of football in mucron
They got everyone off at the top rank babe
If you could ever get into their suite
Avenue tombola and social
We just drove right on by
We were on our way to the big time babe
To the great gold record in the sky
But can you tell me why?
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Lost Change
He stood outside
the newspaper stand
on Michigan & Chicago,
the morning winter chill
made him put on his gloves.
He lit a cigar and said
good morning to three
Walgreens female workers
smoking outside in the cold.
“ It’s almost Old Style time, ”
he proclaimed and handed
a magazine with warm beauty
on its cover to a middle age
office worker who quickly
placed it in a briefcase
and continued to walk.
“ Ain’t it too early for beer, ”
said the redhead between inhales.
“ It’s never to early for Old Style…”
The ladies laughed,
died out their cigarettes
and went back to work.
He kept smoking his cigar
as he sold another newspaper
to a passerby who gave him
exact coins and told him
to keep the change.
He looked down
at the two quarters
in the palm of his glove
and took a long drag
pulled the cheap cigar
from his ample mouth
exhaled and yelled,
“and you too have a wonderful day…”
His shift was coming to an end
while most were just starting.
He knew that soon he would
be home drinking an Old Style,
thinking about the redhead
while counting lost change
he did manage to keep.
poem by Charles Lara
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I have made a film about jazz that tries to look through jazz to see what it tells us about who we are as a people. I think that jazz is a spectacularly accurate model of democracy and a kind of look into our redemptive future possibilities.