saxophone
7 days ago

l'm like Venice,
every night ,
full of cheerful lanterns that boatmen carry.
l'm like Venice.
you're like the water that every midnight,
when all  the boatmen are asleep,
is awake and talks to me.

saxophone
7 days ago

in the shade of a thick leaf,
the black bug
has its dream :
a large white dream
with a dark purple tint
at its bottom:
a flower of magnolia.

I can't play no saxophone
Paul S Eifert
Paul S Eifert
Jan 26, 2013      Jan 27, 2013

I can't play no saxophone
but I can hear it played.
Sometimes it's a lady sighin;
sometimes it's a workin man.
But when it is an orphan cryin
I wish I could hold that child
and play.

I can't hold that child
in these dirty hands of mine.
I can't stop his cryin.
I can hear it way down here
on the sidewalks of the streets he's a child of.
Why, Lord, can I hear that saxophone
but never play?

Alexis Willis
Alexis Willis
Jan 9, 2013

Every noise he makes
every screetching noise he plays.
Louder and louder
i cover my ears.
I close my eyes tight
and think happy thoughts.
Its too loud i said.
All i want is for it to stop.
I cry every note he plays.
I want to bang my head
against the hard ground.
I want to see the blood flow out
as he plays his song.
It hurts to think
i cant even finish this poem.
It becomes more and more loud
even his song cries out for help.
We been through so much
even beaten by a clutch.
Although he plays till night
i am still in fright.

With her golden saxophone ..
Omar Abo Shama
Omar Abo Shama
May 28, 2013      May 28, 2013

The concert was about to finish ..

And now it's her turn ..

With her instrument ..

With her golden saxophone ..

The lights were diminished ..

And she started playing her favorite musical note ..

With her heart that is full of feelings ..

And her closed eyes ..

In her special world ..

The air goes out from her lungs softly like tears ..

And the great audience feels every tone ..

She doesn’t see them ..

She doesn’t hear their clap ..

Only his soul that is around ..

And Only his voice that is heard ..

Then his beautiful smile ..

With tears in his eyes , He said ''You're the best''

Then she looked at her saxophone ..

And remembered years ago ..

At one of their nights ..

During one of their phone calls ..

- You know babe , I adore the Saxophone ..

- Really ?

- Yeah , it's my favorite instrument ..

- Hold on ..

- What's this noise around you ?

- Nothing just my family ..

- Hmmm , didn't they sleep ?

- No , gonna call you after sometime ..

- Ok no problem ..

And after sometime he called her back ..

- Now tell me what will you do when you get a saxophone ..

- Haha , I really don't know but I've never thought about having one before ..

As they used to do , He started telling her a story before sleeping ..

She doesn't care about any stories ..

She just loves listening to his voice ..

She stays silent ..

To listen and feel ..

Every single word ..

And while listening , The call was over ..

She did a call again and again ..

No answer ..

She called his home ..

No answer ..

Again and again ..

No answer ..

The phone was ringing away from his sleeping house ..

Without his family noise that didn't exist ..

Among a lot of people ..

In his crushed car ..

Between his dead body ..

And

That New Golden Saxophone

Jo Fo
Jo Fo
Aug 8, 2013

I saw you there
And the neon signs and your tears
Reflected in your irises
Made you more beautiful
And the alcoholic haze made me believe
If just one night could work
You could come with me
We could have our happy ending
We could leave this life and place
And your dress bloody from engineers schemes
And I love that forgotten woman
More than the orange trees and John
But for our child she gave her life
And I still love her
That Vietnam Bride

a sly saxophone buzz
Brycical
Brycical
Mar 29      Mar 31

I don’t say it enough
to you…
but I am honored to be birthed from you—
partially made up of genes
from yourself and the Callahan family blood.

If not for you,
I wouldn’t know magic;
seeing a shooting star on the beaches of Dahab
after a night of rolling & revelry
with gypsy brethren
whose words taste like Jack and hash…

If not for you,
I wouldn’t know rhythm;
a sly saxophone buzz
improving on stage
in front of dimly lit faces…  

If not for you,
her & I wouldn’t have bonded
over poetry, much less my ears being graced
by her soul-light moon bright voice & guitar
while we smoke at two in the morn on a frigid February
as spaceships hover above…

While I agree smoking isn’t the best for a body, if not for you
I wouldn’t see burning embers fall at her feet as smoke floats out of her mouth illuminated by only the moonlight & her eyes as I think that’s her normal goddess traits. She wouldn’t know my tenacious variety of love if not for you.  

If not for you momma,
giving birth to me,
there would be one less person
sharing cosmic consciousness words
on this earth…

& if not for you mother,
watching yourself & dad struggling with taxes
&  and eating fresh greens & reds,
there would be one less person outraged at the democratic system
stuffing its face with buttery paper bread
while most of us fight for crumbs…

Even though I don’t say this enough
to you,
my gratitude overflows to you,
for being a vessel of my life to habitate
with enthusiasm & grace.

#love   #poem   #poetry   #mom   #mother   #music   #saxophone   #taxes   #february  
Brycical
Brycical
Mar 29, 2012

When the wood touches
my lips
my whole body trembles--
           triplet trebles drip quickly
out....


In my head,
I sound nothing
like the spheres surrounding
        the guitar's melancholy,
        mellow below comes above
and I WAIL.....
          sailing these sounds
swaddling the drumbox beat
to  a crescendo
      exercising all the ills
I've swilled and spilled--
           FILLING
the house
              FILLING my self....
radiating away all thoughts
of doubt.
a reminder of the Bird 'Tranes
a reminder of the names
I used to sing......


Silence
seems like such a foreign concept again.

Dancing to the saxophone
David Alexander Walker

At the Firemen's  Club
Dancing to the saxophone
Beer puts the fire out

the heat of a saxophone
Kiera May
Kiera May
Jun 14, 2013

the ripple of a piano
and of a guitar's sultry strings
the heat of a saxophone
oh i love how music sings

 
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