City of Jazz (in defiance of Katrina AKA the Beast)
In the land of Blues
There once came a beast
A wild, uncaring, disparaging scourge
She tore through the soul of city of gold
She drove every household to the cold
Then came the tears
All night and all day
Flooding the streets and swelling the blue bay
Then came the snakes
Both men and green
They lashed at the people with tainted white teeth.
But the land was strong
Full of ole passion and pride
And the city of golden jazz would not give up without a fight
The struggle was hard
And the people were weary
Together the music lifted thier sad souls
The more they sang the stronger they played
And the people drove the beast, the tears, and the snakes away
After they were gone
The jeweled people all see
The city of Jazz in the land of Blues was meant to be
And the music will play in the heart of New Orleans
The city of Jazz in the land of Blues will be
poem by T.L. Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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City Boy Blues
Fireflies in dogfights
Runnin hot in the heat
Street noise, another bribe
Things too hard to believe--so head out
My hearts in the country
My feets in the city with you
All my friends are eatin sushi
Talkin bad about you know who-who-who
My tongues talkin riddles
But I just cant seem to find a clue
So I take a swig of whiskey
And jump into the saddle with you-you-you
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Cats in the alley
Rats in my snakeskin boots
All my neighbors think Im crazy
And my girl thinks Im losin my cool-cool-cool
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
I got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
Dont look to jesus to change your seasons
Its the american dream
Souls of gypsies, road of stone
Cant seem to find no peace--so head out
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues, got the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
And I just cant seem to break the shackles of the city boy blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
I got the blues, I got the blues,
I got the blues, I got the blues
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Big City Type
I woke up in a big city apartment
Rode to a big city job
On a big city subway
With hip, big city people
Worked at a big city job
In a big city skyscraper
Stood in a big city line
For lunch, heard big city jazz
On a big city radio station
It was like a big city scene
In a big budget movie
When I realized I had become
The big city type
I always wanted to be
Yet I was still me
poem by Adam Artois
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Dem Inner City Blues
I got dem Inner City Blues,
The same ones that made Marvin wanna Holla!
It's hard for people like me to get a dolla,
So i can make ends meet
So i gotta resort to bein' in the streets
Slangin' dem thangs to crack fiends
Not knowin' if they the one that's gonna
Have me doin' time on cell block 18.
Dem Inner City Blues ain't no joke
Got me so stressed out I just sit back,
Roll up some Haze and toke,
On probation for a year,
If P.O. pull a urine I know
I'm up outta here!
Damn those Inner City Blues,
I wish I could wake up and
Have some good news,
'Cause I'm tired of
Dem Inner City Blues.
poem by by unknown author
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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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The Blues
Hes gonna tell you bout his dear old mother
Burned up in a factory in springfield, mass.
Hes gonna tell you bout his baby brother
Hustlin down the city streets
And selling his ass for a dollar bag
Hes gonna tell you bout his uncle neddy
Locked up in a prison out in oregon
Hes gonna tell you bout his best friend eddie
Killed in a bar fight with a pair of marines
And a sailor
Oh
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it in his music
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it, you can hear it
When I was nine years old
My daddy ran away
With a woman he met on a train, oh
His little boy
Ran to the room
Where his piano
Lay in wait for him
He played and he played
He played and he played
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it, you can hear it
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
A year ago, I met a girl
I thought wed hit a massive groove
But she dumped me
And all wed hit were the blues
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it in his music
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes really got the blues
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blues Of The Months
The blues of January,
The blues of February,
The blues of March,
The blues of April,
The blues of May,
The blues of June,
The blues of July,
The blues of August,
The blues of September,
The blues of October,
The blues of November,
The blues of December,
Meet me there if you can!
And like Glory-Land and Merry-land;
But my home will always accept in your sweet blues.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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People Everywhere: Social Music (Original 11 03 2009)
PEOPLE EVERYWHERE: SOCIAL MUSIC
Original 11 03 3009
People everywhere over here over there people
In poor bread lines people in pony drawn carriages
People on a chariot with a rumble seat people on a
Climb on a mountain steep people on a dime on a
Corner on Wall Street –street people -people everywhere
Everywhere there’s a drummer. Where you going?
Everywhere you go you go with a beat you go with
Where the music is… where the music is “social man
What’s jazz? ” People everywhere just social that’s all
New Orleans people social all the way up river to
Kansas City on up to Chicago don’t make no difference
If your name is Santiago Obama Bergson Rothschild
Bush just social People -Montrose New York City
People social all the way to Rio Paris Johannesburg
Brazil Belize over all the bridges –London Suez
Toronto Montreal people in a dim café -social
People in church every weekday and everyday
Everywhere there’s a temple play -Joe’s Place
People social man -music social don’t make no
Difference where you get together whoever is playing
Just playing so you keep on playing with everybody
Playing -people play social music man –man or
Woman don’t understand just don’t stop playing
People everywhere want to be there to see it -up here
You playing social music -understand -just don’t
Stop playing -people everywhere get hungry lose
Patience -people everywhere not playing social music
When you stop playing social music people every-
Where stop –trying to figure out why everybody
Stop playing social music -nothing social about
Playing a whole lot of music -nothing truly social
In a lot of music -the next thing you know a short
Spell and before long you got wars breaking out
Stop playing and its hell -that’s not social any more.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permission.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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I was considered as a jazz man rather than as a blues player. There were no blues players-you played one sort of jazz of another sort of jazz.
quote by Alexis Korner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jumpin With Symphony Sid
Jumpin with my boss sid in the city
Jumpin with my boss sid in the city
Mr. president of that dj committee
Were gonna be up all night gettin ready
We want you to spin the sounds from the city
Far down in the land thats real real pretty
Let everything go real crazy over jazz
Make everything go real crazy over jazz
Let everything cool for me and my baby
I dont wanna think were listening too lazy
Its gotta be pressburg cheering all the basie
Its gotta get it all set right clear on the eighty
Let it roll
Let it roll
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Of A City
In this city excitement happens everyday,
No two days play out the same,
For the nightlife is cool to the extreme,
Where sometimes gangs play their games,
But most people just congregate in the city's bars,
As they listen to jazz, rock and all kinds of music,
For this is the heart of a city,
And car follows car: sometimes picking up hookers,
Yet usually on their way to the colourful nightlife,
To chat, laugh and dance throughout the night,
And sometimes - yes - there are fights,
But whatever goes on, no one seems to care,
Gangs of girls tottering on their high heels,
And young men drinking beer from cans,
And this is paradise, this is life,
And the city buzzes with people,
All searching for inner truth,
Trying to find somewhere to replace their stolen youth,
But soon the night will turn to morning,
And a vibrant new day will begin,
Lovers untangling themselves in their bedroom sheets,
To shower and drink coffee and orange juice,
Slowly waking from last night's alcoholic spell.
poem by by unknown author
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My fore people
My fore people
Birth the spiritual
Because God wanted
To hear it
He said ‘I feel your pains
Sang it away, sang’
And they opened their mouth
And the spiritual rang out
Go tell it on the mountain.
My fore mothers
Birthed the blues
Because they knew
That life in Americus
Wasn’t fair
So their souls said to them
Lady Day croon
Bessie Smith zoom
With the blues
Strange Fruits
My fore father
Birth jazz
Out of necessity
Out of chains around
Their ankles
They blow the sounds
Of the death bell
To tell that the struggler
Was not in vain
They blow jazz from
Within and still
There was more to give
Around midnight
poem by David E. Patton
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Salaam Bombay
Tell me of a city not built by its own,
Tell me of a city, which can stand alone.
Talk of a place where the land is scarce
Where people will share more than their own fare.
The common man is the strength of this city
He is a man of steel, gutsy and gritty.
The Spirit of people is the fuel of existence.
No man, No child, No Woman shy of assistance
On a normal day, no one will bother you,
Come crisis, and not one will desert you.
No where in the world are people so selfless,
Call it the rudest city in the world, but not helpless.
What it lacks in Space, It makes up in Spirit
Rain may flood and blasts can rock the city.
Here the lifeline is not blood, or a heartbeat,
The life line is a rack on track.
No city in the World like this,
Not Rome, not London, nor Paris,
Hats off to the Land of Dreams,
Salaam Bombay, I hear myself scream.
poem by Ashish Ram
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11.3
Have you ever seen my city?
The water flows free, like a river
through the streets.
My beautiful city.
During summer
cherry blossom, green grass, sunshine
the okiya, and jiin
Smiles and waves in the streets of
my city
now left with greif and pity.
Water, silver, mixed shades of brown and green
rushes past, flowing fast
stealing away people's world.
Filling the remains of a tea house
red, gold, glint as they float away.
A sofa lies in the midst of a field
stood alone, survival, vivid green,
perhaps it once belonged
to a family, like me or you.
Have you ever seen my city?
Beautiful, as it was, nothing
could compare
Now only left a waste land of destruction
after the quake tore through
and the waves rolled in
and my city, a lake now lies.
poem by Mia Rennow
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Ears Of Tin
In the late hours of a sunset rendezvous ---
Chill breeze against tide, that carries me from you.
Got a job in a southern city --- got some lead-free in my tank.
Now I must whisper goodbye --- Im bound for the mainland.
Island in the city, cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. groundswell of humanity.
Now the sum breaks through rain as I climb glen shiel
On the trail of those old cattlemen who drove their bargain south again.
And in the eyes of those five sisters of kintail
Theres a wink of seduction from the mainland.
Island in the city. cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise --- their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. falling on ears of tin.
Take my heart and take my brawn.
Take by stealth or take by storm ---
Set my brain to cruise.
I can see the glow of the suburb lights.
Im fresh from the out-world ---
Singing the mainland blues.
There was a girl where I came from.
Seems a long time, long time gone by.
Wears the west wind in her hair.
She calls from the hill --- yeah, she calls
In my mainland blues.
Theres a coast road that winds to heavens door
Where a fat ferry floats on muted diesel roar.
And theres a light on the hillside --- and theres a flame in her
Eyes, but how cold the lights burn on the mainland.
Island in the city. cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise --- their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. falling on ears of tin
In my mainland blues.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderful Wonderful Dream
As i walk by the sea
I hear the breeze blowing in my ear
whispering of things never heard
A land that cover by fog
A city under the sea
A flying city in the sky
And how i wish i could see it all
In the night i dream a wonderful dream
Of a land cover by fog
Where creatures never before seen
Beautiful unicorn
running with the wind
Lovely fairies
Flying everywhere
Of a city under the sea
where lovely mermaid
swim and dance
with lovely music all around
Of a flying city in the sky
where live a race
never known
Wizard, witches, sorcerer and sorceress
From the land that cover by fog
to the city under the sea
From the city under the sea
to the flying city in the sky
From the flying city in the sky
to my bed in a room
where the sun had shine in
and awaken from my wonderful wonderful dream
Sigh.............
How i wish to remain in my wonderful dream
poem by Josephine Lee
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Mysore Royale!
Let me share my view about my city, Mysore
The Palace city, hi-tech and green, not a noisy galore
Ancient and Modern structures blend together
Making the city look richer and better
People from all over the world flock
To be part of the Dasara celebration
Eagerly witnessing the 'Jumbo Savari'- Elephant procession
Chamundi Hills is one destination you never miss
Mysore Sandalwood, Mysore Jasmine, Mysore pak, Mysore silk saree, Mysore peta
Just to name a few things, known worldwide, Unique to the land
Music, Dance, Sculptures, Food, Landscape, Flora and Fauna, list goes on
The simple lifestyle, simple people, friendly people are the aura
Royal in a true sense, rich in culture and resources
Land where River Cauvery nourishes and flourishes
Just a visit will enrich your life
Mysore is Uniquely beautiful
For me its beyond and above all this
Its my native place and my city
Go around the world, there is no place like this
Its truly a blessing to belong to such a land!
poem by Manjeshwari P MYSORE
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This Is Your Land
This is your land
Its the way it was planned
Sky to the sea, something to see
Old ancient town, to the old people ground
I wanna know, something to go
This is your land, laid out in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land
Oh churches and steeples, big city people
I wanna know something to hold
Walk down the track, to the old railroad track
I wanna leave something to see
This is your land, laid out in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land
Money cant buy me
Money cant buy me
Ive got time
Time is on my side
You dont know what youve got till the whole things gone
The days are dark and the road is long
And when you walk away, the hope is gone
Tell me what is right, and what is wrong
Is this the way it was planned
This is your land, take it in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land, take it in your hand
This is your land
Wherever I go, way down here I know
This is your land
Words and music : simple minds reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The City With Eyes
The city with eyes
Sees everything,
City with eyes
Hears everything
Feels everything
The city with eyes
Sees people living on the rough side of the streets
Sees people eating crumbs from the floor
Sees people with ripped clothes and no shoes
Watching other people wearing lubatones walking past
It cries not one but millions of tears
For them
Tears which touch every one
Which soaks everything
Rain, they call it.
The city with eyes
Watching
What has happened to my city?
It cries with sorrow
The city with eyes
Feels the sadness
Of those in need, sad, hurt, …
Watching what was happy
To what is sad know