It's a wonder the bottom of my heart
didn't fall to my feet when you called
just to say you love me ...  

you are the sunshine of my life,
not a part time lover ... for once
in my life I've been given
a second chance at romance

you embody all a man should be
human, yes ... yet with ideals
that speak to my soul

my spirit flies free because you
permit me to be ... me
no demands

in kind I would not stifle you
nor ******* your own freedom

although committed to one another
we have a life apart ... enough
room to breathe, think, pray
when we are together
we cherish this time, renewed

in your blue eyes I see a mirror
of my own ... a reflection
of pure affection

our love is aging like fine wine
and if we continue to evolve,
we may have a place in the sun
because ... I think ... we won't
have to worry 'bout a thing.



You are a Wonder

My afternoons have been spent listening to her
And her mind-numbing jazz, the trumpets
and the trombones, the bass guitar and the piano.
I'm almost tone deaf but, god, I could feel her soul
through her songs. She has caught me
like how liquor stared back at me
with her golden stare
As the ice begins to sweat.

After school she would teach me
How to handle her instruments:
The soprano, the alto and the tenor.
The former, we would practice often at her whim;
Her favorite sax which even with a few notes,
she'd ask me to play with her.

In her own words, "You have to imagine"
"Making love to your instrument."
"Imagine me", she said.
And for the first time I heard her play
Pink panther off key.

The whole room got up to dance,
all head shakes and hip swings
this music got me all filled up
each note a cry out for someone
they done made the leaves change
autumn jazz be the most beautiful of colors

I thought I knew what love looked like
now every time I log on
I get lost in your eyes

I thought that I was stronger than ever
but your smile makes me feel weak
I thought I had matured and grown
you make me feel like a schoolchild crushing

Whatever it is, it won't matter
Whatever it is, it can wait
2yrs4hrs
Whatever it is, I don't care.

Will I be enough?
Are you real?
Are you warm to the touch?
What does your hair smell like?

I thought I was crying
until you made me look
now
it's
fine

we have time

The sight of you
brings jazz
to my ears.

He is the old cat

the one purring
half notes in undertones
from the shadows of the stage

he beckons with unearthly sounds

scaling in exclamation,
He casts his spell with blue notes
which conjure up his lover’s shape

she is a thin alto

he cannot help but look
as she slinks with effortless bravado
her figure the opus of lust

a binding contract with his demons

she whispers to him and
and he glows with stage light
like an ember inside the oven

dazed by fevers of unholy matrimony

Ambrose
Ah-kin-
MOO-sir-ee
Lifts a trumpet to his mouth.
Deep breaths blow notes
at right angles
into space.
The sound is worn denim.
The sound is Lauren Bacall.
The beat is urgent and syncopated
just like his last name.

Ambrose
Ah-kin-
MOO-sir-ee
Rests a trumpet by his side.
Reverb:
Ambrose interprets the persistence of sound;
reflections build up and decay
until the sound is absorbed
by the surfaces of this space.
Inhale.
Ambrose,
pulls the trumpet
To his mouth
once again.

His jazz hymn of praise
And saxophone serenades
The bless'd trinity