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Betty Mar 22
Jazz is a free flying bird which sings
you cannot clip its scarlet wings
passion mixed with ice and fire
the burning flame of sweet desire
Thomas W Case Feb 27
Chess in the
afternoon sun.
Jazz floats over
the silky couch.
Backs ache, while
hearts break.
Bishop takes knight,
and France falls again.

The masks are all
broken under the
cerulean blue skies,
while she eats berries,
and smiles in her
pink polka dot dress.
The pawns are all smug,
and queenie's on the rag.
Italy surrenders, and from
the grave, Charlie Parker
still hammers home
those soft amber notes.
I can smell her heat, and
I think they play
Jazz in hell.

last night i met a wolf  
in a dream where
i was in a car with
the door decidedly open

listening to a radio that
was playing
some soft jazz
on a distant station.

i look and— there He was !!
right next to me sitting
just inches away.

He said (woof) "Hello" with a
mild but manly voice, this fellow
was well over two hundred lbs.

i said "hello" back as He sniffed
at the side of my leg briefly
and then looked at me with

friendly eyes and an expression
which seemed –to me– like
a gentle smile.

He then said (woof) "I just wanted
you to pet me for a minute–
hopefully you wont mind"

so i did..

perhaps it was the scent of what i sprayed
on as i made my way out, or maybe
how the boots surrounded my
thighs a couple of inches
above my knees as the
wind blew across
my skirt like a

and then a voice on
the radio shouted,

"You should be Parked !!"

I woke...

s jones

14 Feb 2021

there is an actual station in Ohio
"WSAX" that is devoted to Jazz,

didnt know this before
the dream...
Harley Hucof Jan 12
Objectively i step out,
dissecting, inspecting, introspecting,
analysing what is to become of me.

You interpret my words and call it psychology

My main problem is communication,
Inherited from my mother ,
Though i earned a masters in the latter,

My perverseness came from my father
But who could ever blame the parents ?

Since reality is merely a fragment
associated to humans, and i accept that.

Subjectively i dig in , search , meditate and contemplate
i conclude the path is still long ahead however my herritage assures me that i am already there

If Jazz could be committed to ink and paper
assorted with therapy
the results would be similar to my humble poetry

Words Of Harfouchism
Curling tendrils of tobacco haze
engulf the tiny space, hang like
ringlets over shots of whiskey
and mugs of warm beer. A solitary
dancer moves, bracelets janglin’
and eyes heavy with kohl, captures
old men in mid drink as her hips
sway to Nina Simone. Her bronze skin
glistens with the hot stares of the
audience; she soaks it in, twirls on
bare feet in perfect time as the
high priestess of soul bewitches
us with heavy grooves. I close
my eyes, tap fingers against glass,
whisper Nina’s words into the smoke
and breathe them back in again.
This is jazz, I think out loud,
this is pure unadulterated heat.
Dave Robertson Dec 2020
There’s a jazz Christmas in my mind

that other, impossibly cool cats
seem to have,

but I have never found
Sasha Paulona Sep 2020
Chill of the night
Dim light all around
I cried with a smile
and combined to our souls
Every word.......

When I was lying on this bench
When I hold every breath
I believed you love me
Every pause............

When you far away
When the hearts were aching
I believed you love me
every moment.........

The sweet smell of your skin
It's the grievous part of my sin
You make me drunk with iced gin
and leave me with your win
every night...........
when I listen to Jazz music and think about romantic night club song.
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2020
Broken flight

They went down somewhere
in the trees

The sky is sad
and full of remorse

But never Calliope

Broadway and 52

God knows
they got to you

She sings songs
of their misfortune

Decidely the muse and
mother of importune
Jamie Aug 2020
I love you like jazz notes
All over the place and messy

I love you slow
Like a burning ember holding onto firewood

I love you fiercely
I love you now
And then
And always

In secret
In whisper
gallery of
the grievers
ween afar
in plane
to propel
the dance
yet triple
in wings
that triage
Mekong dry-cleaner
those drastic
maitres'd the
guns of
Queen Village
noise plays
guitar in
Market Square
Chris' Cafe in Philadelphia, PA
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