He standing lonely on the stage.
His mind is full of music and the notes.
His soul is full of sadness.
He holds a saxophone.
And his face is filled with blush.
When the hum comes out of the saxophone.
He plays jazz tonight.
This evening he sings for you.
Jazz filled with love.
Jazz that gratifies the blood.
Ringing in the ears like a bell of the land.
I'm still kinda bitter but i'm not sad anymore all i need is a good jazz concert
Old jazz, glass of wine and the memory of you...
I miss putting my hands all over you.
I miss putting my lips on your parts
And when I blow
You you let out the sweetest sounds.
Your curves are just perfect.
Even the way your body glistens in the light is beautiful.
There isn’t any others like you.
You are broken now.
Many years of neglect.
You’re drying up and it’s my fault.
You don’t hold up like you used to.
I’ll love you again
And I will fix you.
I miss you
My sweet little saxophone ❤️
Hands in my pockets
with a jazzed overtone
Strolling a swagger
I've come to love
the color blue to mean
not a Blue Monday
Blue Note or joke
and don't much care to sing the Blues
or for that matter
because truth be told
most of the time
I want to caucus
pumping and stumping
for a Blue Hawaii
or the warm blue waters
the clam shell white bottom
of Palancar Reef
Whit Howland © 2019
When I listen to jazz
Hot like seeping tea
As it cools like coffee directly in front of me
All I see is the ocean
All I hear is the swishing sound of the sand being turned to glass
Beneath the feet of an unwalking rhythm
Unwaking and amiss
Good jazz doesn’t walk a straight line as this
It’s a drunken rhythm and a deep sip
In love with the indescribable, naturural, eternal bliss
pick the lock
with ivory keys...
‘Jazz is not just music, it’s a way of life, it’s a way of being, a way of thinking.’
- Nina Simone