"jazzed" poems
I pity anyone visiting us with
A language besides English;
Who tries to understand the words
We like to use with relish.
We seem to say so many words
Just to keep our lips busy.
It occurs to me the so much of it
Has never graced a dictionary.
Upscaling, downsizing
Offloading the whole magilla
The whole nine yards, bottom liine
The big honcho, the whole enchilada
I was completely plussed and then
I had my self a hissy fit
I didn't know I had a flabber,
'Til someone went and gasted it.
Hanging out, kicking back
Into myself and whatever
***** it, man. I am like, wow.
And y'know, yodda yodda yodda.
Some mean kinda fudpucker
Betcher bippees, yabba dabba doo.
Mazoomas and headlights,
Totally hyped megabitch, too.
Talkin' about 'sup bro
Stufflike windas and winders.
Jammin and gittin widdit
And sumpinbout pillas and pillers.
So, I goes and he goes,
And I'm all jazzed and by golly.
It really rocks, rad to the max
Get down to some serious party.
Sixes an sevens, p's and q's
What's your point? Get real!
It's pretty much a ******
So, what's the big deal?
Too much, I mean it's tough,
And stuff, and really far out, man.
Twenty three skiddo old bean.
Just a flash in the pan.
It ***** It blows, It bites, big time
A wicked righteous mindfuck.
Get jiggy with it. Kiss my crank;
Slob my **** Lord Love-a-duck.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
His hair is poofed, 8 out of ten
Teeth polished soft white
Back is naired, nails all clipped
Underwear still clean
He is bouncy and blathy
A brassy baritone rips across the set
Co-anchor all Xanaxed and blonded
Can’t feel her glowing red mouth
About to show their favourite clips
Starving umber skinned babies
Distended bellies, chopstick arms
Fly clouded eyes, light fading
Mothers with vacant grey faces
Collapsed buildings, bodies sprawled
Terrified animals dying
Video Head man turns to the camera
Mouths the teleprompter tales
Without meaning
Can’t feel his heartbeat
He’s thinking about his *********
Of 17 year old Crack babes locked in his suite
‘N Just as he starts to get jazzed up
The lights go down and he knows
He knows
He’s just a digital clown
FFFTTT…
The electrons are gone.
Songs of the Illustrated Zombies 2010
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 5:04 PM UTC
Learn to write again
learn to type right
first time in 3 decades of life
I want to write closer to when I think
speed time, to slow it
make it feel like I do more
like I was in my teens or early twenties
**** these days 3 go by and it feels like one
I count my blessings to build confidence
Life grows more cruel but
I might win if I act like already won
Chaos magick, nay we do not speak of it
You forgot to pretend
to suspend quests for rationality
No longer moved by a book or film
We conditioned to be unconditioned
only to realize we ought to been wistfully in the herd
the whole time
We're the Bodhisattvas forestalling enlightenment
to get drunk with the butchers
after decades of sober high ground
We're the over-analyzers
lamenting our anachronisms in self-assuring
new philosophies
Either fully embrace one or drop out of being smart at all
the only tolerable choice to start to enjoy life again
No, no it's a false dichotomy
I want to be the eternal well-wisher
no matter the decadent displays
The shared dream of a soon to be future
We scavenge and defend
through pockmarked streets
make shelters amid crumbling concrete
We forgot how to imagine a secure society
Measured expectations and social safety nets
they took it all away along with our balanced serotonin
I used to get all jazzed up over a library book
but now the images promise us much more bliss
right around the corner
But it never soothes
never comes close
We cannot buy the contentment you claimed to offer
so we'll get it in collapse
We'll be sniped, starved, and deranged
but the thought of that life
makes us whisper excitedly to ourselves
"finally something has happened to me."
I, the eternal well-wisher
will wag no more fingers at preachers of death
Neither will I become them nor pity them
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 10:01 PM UTC
But then, in that instant of plastic smiles and disco rain, I strode away from my first cradle. The air was northern and sliced my lungs open into startling clarity sliced my brain open into startling clarity. And when I looked around, I saw, and when I felt around, I touched. My trunk was slapped into shape, and in a blazing radio tower of language it became un-unique. I fuzzed my skull and rejected the lull and became recognizably human.
And while school strobed by in a prosthetic ferris wheel, I jazzed to a different beat. 'Cause my friends were kids, but neon dashed through my veins; playing saxophone with irrational exuberance. I woke every sunrise with an occupation syncopation: they breathed air while I smelled bass guitar solos in the sultry breeze blowing by the office's oasis. And paper is a flimsy wall for desire, and I never could read a point twelve sized STOP. I spread my arms and heart-orchestrated yearnings in the moon-clouded evening in the mist-drenched night in the raindrop-fresh awakening, but grey can't do but see only grey. And neon doesn't come in that shade.
No food but life no air but life no life but life. That advertisement sky is still looking at me, but I can see with my off-beat eyes that it was never a smile, but a frown of grim satisfaction. I was just looking at it upside-around. But my hair is people-colored, and my breath is derby muted, and no one puts money in my can. And then I looked around and saw, and then I felt around and touched, and then I
Those glass windows melted and gaggled themselves across my tongue, spewing honeyed drops on my flaring trombone soliloquies! My vision spiraled into a black pond of bebop and my lids and lashed fainted: up up and away into the fading light of day.
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 1:08 PM UTC
Vacay in a piano case.bathtub
ginn.pin stripes and fedoras.
Canadian club.speaks easy at the cotton club.
moonshine met primtime.
Blues came north and jazzed up New York
SATCHMO opened eyes. Chi towns tommy gun law.
sheen gun Kelly with a belly gun as chaser.
Granny flapped in the roaring 20s.
Then
1929
Went
Pop
And the party stopped.
LAST CALL FOR ALCOHOL.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 12:09 PM UTC
She checks me out, with smoker's stains
On crooked teeth and looks about
Ten years less old than me, which makes
Her forty-nine. I thought that old,
When I was seventeen, just been
With two sweet girls, about my age,
Insanely jazzed to learn that thing
Which makes us so ridiculous.
A fool can keep his wits about.
An old one learning not to fret,
Has lost enough to be sincere,
Steps often where he needs to be,
With less reluctant feet. My need
For naked words remains obscene.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 7:14 PM UTC
the groogrux king, himself, would sing,
why i am is to forever bring
a jazzed up, blissful outlook on such things
that many see as strife, but man, did he ring
out on that saxophone, bass and alto alike,
he brought forth such emotion
as his wind-riffs did ignite,
the most stellar combination
of love and happiness tonight.
he lives on forever,
as we lie in our graves,
dreaming and wondering of better things,
better ways to use our days,
you gave your soul
through sax in whole,
long live the groogrux king,
we know how sweet you roll.
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 2:31 AM UTC
Braced,
For the rough, graceful sandpaper offered
by the saxophonist while he woos you with
outright randomness arpeggiated.
The titanic soul of the double-bass
quivers my body,
it lives in the catacombs of my ribs.
And,
I'm jazzed.
Pure chaos,
with a complete understanding of order
but a gleeful disregard.
"I could do that."
Then do it.
And, exhale.
Jun 24, 2011
Jun 24, 2011 at 1:34 PM UTC
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Heard from the bathers that-
The Princess had been abducted
By the Dark Beast.
A bounty of thousand gold coins was announced
If you brought her back alive and the beast dead
And Death if you brought the beast alive and the Princess dead.
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Hung their drums around their necks
And drummed their way
Through the Forest Dark
When the Elder Brother drummed the sleep-inducing roll,
The storks that roosted in the trees
Dropped as if they were one big bunch.
He picked them up one by one
While the younger one,
Elated,
Shouted 'Pelicans!' and drummed the defeathering roll
Upon which the plumage came off
The Elder Brother drummed the roasting roll
And the birdflesh caught fire.
On the second day a leopard that looked-
More like a boulder in leopard's clothing
Lurched at the brothers.
The Elder Brother drummed the age-reversing roll
And the poor old leopard grew younger and younger
Until it became a watery foetus which-
The Drummer Brothers ate,
Dabbing crushed chillies, and sprinkling salt.
On the third day a bear of grisly proportions
Ambled, roaring, into their sight
The Younger Brother drummed an organ-enlarging roll that-
Stretched the bear's mammaries far too long-
They dragged on the ground like two pythons.
The Elder Brother drummed the light-the- candle roll
And the oily **** caught fire like wicks.
Having vanquished the two deadly beasts
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku met,
On the fourth day of their journey,
The Dark Beast.
The Dark Beast, as it turned out,
Was no beast as such
But an Outcast once expelled
Into the heart of darkness
Who wrapped himself
In the dark of the Dawn
And became one with All the Beasts
And rumbled.
The Princess' pygmy horse was impaled
With the stake coming out of its mouth
Grossly gory, its hindlegs missing
And the blood, coagulated, hanging like icicles.
Near it was the Princess herself,
Naked, except for the gold waist chain
And the anklets.
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Drummed a very ordinary roll,
Steady and throbbing.
The Dark Beast who listened to it
Was transported into his past,
His memory of listening
To the old drummers of Ikku Ukku.
Excited,
He spun on his heels and stretched out his arms
He gyrated and pirouetted-
And on reaching the peak of his frenzy
Exploded, like a watermelon
The pieces flew in all directions.
The Drummer Brothers picked them up
And licked
While the Princess, shaken out of her languor,
Rose and sauntered towards them.
Holding out her honey hands
She said, "Now I belong to both of you."
The Younger Brother came up with a plan:
The elder one would have her from the waist up
While he would have her from the waist down.
The Elder Brother approved.
Vain and coquettish,
The Princess rammed her fists into either drum
And said: "I loathe their sound- too unrefined."
On the fifth day,
The Drummer Brother drummed a jazzed up roll
On their new drumhead
Made of the Princess' hide.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 6:15 AM UTC
Sitting up in the attic room
with things forgotten, out of bloom
A china doll of antique grace
with porcelain cracked and ***** face
Ringlets of golden honey hair
in a velvet burgundy dress long past care
Little hands open in out stretched arms
Portraying all the grandeur of Victorian charms.
Sitting atop a wooden box
beside a clock that never tocks
Around her lays all that is forgotten
Pictures,Toys, wool and cotton.
Belongings to another time and place
things that once came please and grace
A painting that upon a wall did stand
A trumpet that once Jazzed a band.
Saddened all to the timeless lack
They fill the Attic, every nook and crack.
But!
On nights when the full Moon's light is there
when its magical rays through the attic's windows fare
The Little Doll's eyes do twinkle
where Moonbeams fall and sprinkle.
Granted if but for a moment
the doll that has long lain dormant
Awakens with a child like giggle
where memories within her tingle.
The Clock is given a moment in time
to tick a second, sound a chime
While down stairs the family talk
unknowing what above their heads does walk
However, every now and then upon the full Moon
A sound they'll hear in the Attic room
No sooner than they open the door
the magic ends what powers did soar
As they peer into what lays dead and still
a tingle up their spines does fill
For there Sitting upon her wooden seat
with arms out stretched and bare feet
Bella awaits the next full Moon's shine
When the clock shall tick and again shall chime.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 7:40 AM UTC
The day you meet a woman
you love
you will see why
you made me laugh for no reason,
why I drove in the rain for days
to dry the palms of your hands with my sweat,
why the blackness of your skin
lit my eyes
which were a mirror
to your chocolate sculpture
carved by
taxi rank crowds scampering around you
at rush hour -
just before the rain -
framing you into a portrait of dignity…
You'll see
why drums beat in my chest
and shook me like daisies
whenever your soul
slid towards me
to sip ...
You'll see
why blemishes of my tattooed hands pricked
creases on your forehead
and cupped
my tears below your greying chin,
why death had stopped stalking me
after I had jazzed with you under
our passion-splashed umbrella
and tasted the rain
under our toes -
on cobbled streets at Kippies
on Mirriam Makeba Street…
The day your Black Magic Woman
stumbles through
your Mute. Deaf. Door...
you'll grasp
why you were once my sugar chocolate tree
in a faded world where hearts were not papers.
© Dimakatso A. Sedite 2017
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 7:33 AM UTC
Maybe i’m foolish
Maybe i’m too kind
Maybe i'm stubborn
Maybe it's your laugh
Or your rockin ***
Complemented by the nice smile
Maybe I should get out of my seat.
Maybe I should talk to you
Maybe I should not have tripped on my shoelaces
Maybe I should complement your tattoo
Maybe we should talk so much
That the librarian has to kick us out for letting out that laugh you have.
Maybe you like me
Maybe you are just trying to be friendly
Maybe you are a pushover
Maybe i'm just being too aggressive
Maybe I should take you out to dinner
Maybe I should look at your beautiful eyes when I ask
Instead of snow angels on the ground with my feet
Maybe you said yes
Maybe I thought you said yes
Maybe you didn't mean to say yes
Either or im jazzed
Maybe I should wear a bowtie
Maybe I should wear suspenders
Maybe both….fuck it
Maybe you likes chinese
Or Maybe indian!
Maybe I should ask
Or maybe I should take initiative
Maybe I should knock on her door
Or ring the doorbell!
Maybe I should give you the time of your life!
And maybe I will go stargazing
But It would just me staring at you
Because the stars are in your eyes
Maybe I'll tilt my head in
And feel your lips pressed into mine
And maybe you will never have
To have a first date ever again
But I don't
I don't approach you in that library
I don't compliment your tattoos
I don't even hear your thoughts
That make you mentally shout at night
You won’t even teach me how to dance
Or how to deal with your parents who wouldn't like me
Instead I just watch from afar
You look at me
Which forces me to make snow angels on the ground with my feet
As you grab your books
And leave the library.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 7:31 AM UTC
I mean it !
It was really somthin!
Joey ha ha!
Well there was this babe see
And Joey he oh brother!
...
...
I can hardly ----
I mean it !
It was sumpthin !
I tell ya!
Something to write Home about
It's hard to put it down
But it was really sumpthin !
----------
---------
All the hatred in the world never done did nothin good
(Nor bad or even substantial)
.-------
-------
.
A little child trusting you and now what?
Ya gonna go and **** someone and become a millionaire?
Ha ** The friggin world!
Watching the same **** every day!!
-------
-------
Little kid on the razor street with the jazzed up monkey
Dancin on his back
Sellin souls real cheap and there you are
In the police force
With your drone airplane
-------
------
For some reason errybody jaberrin bout bombs n ****
All **** week!
Why dat?
.
.
.
Little kid out on a street
The silent street
The street that ain't there
Except when the kid dead and then it's there
For a little while til another kid dead some where's else
Then a bomb goes off an yer gone
------
------
See-- we got dis prez born in Kenya
------
------
In America we takes all the sicko bejabberers
And puts em all in one building and calls
Em Senators
An then we surround the building an laugh at the sickos
and throw em bananas
Meanwhiles they be killin us
And then for sure there's them banker dudes
SHUT UP!
We Aints ta say no more bout it!
They off limits ya know!
------
------
Now how'd I start this thing so I kin wind it down
And get outta here with my head on straight an my body in one piece
And you not hatin me and bombs goin off
And all of that what you do to me
an little kids
Out on dyin roads and where they lead
To garbage dumps and the third world
And conspiracy and hypocrisy
And all that stuff we gets talkin about ?
...
Oh yeah
.
I was talkin about me bud Joey ha ha!
And this babe
See
An it was sumpthin I'm tellin ya!
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
Maybe you're ****** jazzed when you find it,
maybe it grows on you,
maybe you wear it out but it makes you feel things,
and you go back to it when you need comforting.
The best music is the song you've worn out with love over the years,
the old favorite,
the one you appreciate
not for newness but for familiarity
and wonder
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
She is my sanctuary.
She throws her flowers down the drain.
Soon we shall be home again.
Dancing together in the morning rain.
Merlot, sweet Merlot,
Take your fill again.
Closer together than ever more,
For never more be free.
To ride the crazy gravy train,
Once before and now again.
Merlot, sweet Merlot,
Take your fill again.
We jived in days of fifty five,
None of us were stood alive,
As strawberry Mondays, we jazzed about.
Tuesdays of cherries, full and ripe.
Wednesdays of banana split dreams.
where everything is great, not as it seems.
We sail on drunken dreams.
The sun flies overhead.
We are on our way home, standing room only,
We are never alone.
Merlot, sweet Merlot,
Take it when you get your chance,
Then take your fill again.
(C) Livvi
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
It's been an age and a day
Only to hear you say:
"I eve you long time to love me in my prime
my prevoius hurts a crime"
A dime to my cosmic mine you shine
So fine as I dreamt; your body laid supine after lime lives in lemon and spirit waters spring in your senses
Emotions awakened and futures are embraced
Your embrace is such grace and your face such a view to the pre of love I come uncove as I kiss this dove
Oh my What a time.
A moment has been paused
Memories of divinity spin in a dance
All that was frozen melts in a new day, we gaze at each other in a new way
We debut as a duet and Romeo finally finds his spine to Due Juliet her flower's bloom
Crimson and clover only feel pure when sober
Ebony and ivory a golden tapestry in the view of the hour glass
But you know this if you go to class and find the hidden rainbow in the jazzed spirals razzmatazz
So respecting time we glide after we gladiate into the new guide and it's a gig find after gregarious grind
So I'm bound to give thanks to the chance
How did I know that the moment would be a spinning memory in the akashic spheres of time
Archiving beautiful rhyme and justly destined rhythm to flow the Conscious and Integrating Cause from the Source of Creation
Having been fully loved and having fully loved after incessant love wars
Masses did they the guy fighting for the law of one abhor
Now the old blunt saw is a see-saw as we can watch who we have been through the picture of love
And dear soldier of love I would like to say
You now stand as a Sol-Soul dioded through notes of justice and truth
Let your positioning be the start of great things to come
All things being a progress, life is in our hands
Learn to respect life and all souls... And you will be a happy person.
Eileening a new age, you are now gowned anew after the timeless chariot race of slave no•61
___She stands, so womanhood will no longer be the hub of the mess as an outlet amass
As you now know, show them how to dress.
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC
Listening To Bruce
How many times, has it been now,
after searching high and low, somehow,
when I wanted something fresh and new,
I always seem, not surprisingly, to return to you
with Every little kiss, you first got my attention,
with southern country kind of jazzed, no, not a new invention,
That's just the way it is, and that's the way it was,
sounded really cool, specially if you had a buzz
He took us down The spirit trail, he left us in the Hot house,
The changes from here, to there, was like from man to mouse,
King of the hill was his special plan, and used his Spider fingers,
he crawled along the Great divide, carefully he lingers
he was shaking his Shadow hand, tickling ivory to Swan song,
now we have barely touched the surface, still he moves along,
cruising thru the Funhouse, dark as night, searching for his crown,
Listening to Bruce, never gets old, at least not In this town
Gomer LePoet...
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
You got in!
You are going to the college of your dreams!
And I'm jazzed that you're getting what you need to be
You!
You're going halfway around the world to do what
You
Most want to do.
You
Couldn't be happier.
You
Couldn't imagine the questions that
I have.
First, and foremost,
What about us?
What do you expect me to do?
I feel guilty because, though I'm happy for
You
I'm depressed and angry too.
Six years I've
Waited
Wanted
You
Three more, without
You
But I'm stuck, because
You got in
To my heart.
I can't just leave you,
I can't do anything but wait for
You
Again and again, because
I love you.
So what am I supposed to do?
Learn to live with and without you?
I'm sorry, but I don't want to.
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC
Listening To Bruce
How many times, has it been now,
after searching high and low, somehow,
when I wanted something fresh and new,
I always seems, not surprisingly, to return to you,
with Every little kiss, he first got my attention,
with southern country kind of jazzed, no, not a new invention,
That's just the way it is, and that's the way it was,
sounded really cool, specially if you had a buzz,
He took us down The spirit trail, he left us in the Hot house,
The changes from here, to there, was like from man to mouse,
King of the hill was his special plan, and used his Spider fingers,
he crawled along the Great divide, carefully he lingers,
he was shaking his Shadow hand, tickling ivory to Swan song,
now we have barely touched the surface, still he moves along,
cruising thru the Funhouse, dark as night, searching for his crown,
Listening to Bruce, never gets old, at least not In this town
Gomer LePoet...
Mar 12, 2010
Mar 12, 2010 at 3:46 AM UTC
The spoon's side jumped
Between moon shaped glasses,
He jip jived dipped and dived
Forward more toward something resembling music.
A fresh song and dance.
New tunes through an ordinary water holder,
Nestled between plate and napkin.
The sound got his mate all jazzed up,
So he joined with his own swift swinging tune.
Who knew that dining things could own a beat?
They found a new way to show
They had a rhythm from their fingers to their toes.
It was them together.
Hearing things they thought they would never.
So they skedaddled downtown
Piddle paddling through the streets.
Clanking their feet into light poles until their soles were sore.
Smacking hands on drums where knees used to be.
They threw nonsensical sounds around that made sense together,
They flowed like a bird’s song to its dear old Mrs.
Common sounds with a unique meaning.
They were loud and crazy with a vision slightly hazy,
For they didn't see the sheriff approaching.
The sheriff caused a bigger scene then they ever were,
Yelling and wrestling with them.
He stopped their show saying, "There ain't none of those nonsense words on my street, especially not from your kind."
How kind they were,
They left without a question.
There was no need to fuss and rush
They were goin'.
They thought that with sounds like these
There was no use wasting them on empty streets
And park benches.
Back to the club they ran
Eager to hear their cheering fans they had left behind to show the streets their new found sound.
That stage is where it started
And stayed for a while.
On that stage their imaginations could run ramped on an empty canvas of ears.
But on their stage they had to stay.
Hidden.
For a little while,
You see the streets weren't ready to be shown these beats,
This wasn't Joe Schmos show put on every Thursday afternoon near the salad bar,
Quiet enough not to disturb the guests but just enough to give a nice background noise to their chewing,
Oh no, no, no.
This was jazz.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
a cleansing of raindrops
gently falling
tinkering delicate rhythms
highlight a sunset
through grey clouds
billowing across a tableau
nobody painted
these old walls
for many years
the dust settled
occasionally vacuumed
saxophone highlights
the melody drawn out
like the softest flick
pictures drawn by notes
the lilies are glistening
the backyard replenishes
newer shoots sprout
in spring they shall flower
more than last year
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 3:45 AM UTC
Jazzed-----
Give me all the feels!
Give me all the blues
Let it crash
Let it hit
Let it be smooth
------ Leave me rocked
-But don't make me move
I've played the game of love
Some win and some loose
Jazzed------
Give me all the feels!
Give me the rhythm
Let it sing
Let it glide
Let it smash ---- Then let it ride
---------Leave me be
Leave me stuck
-Don't make me move
I've gambled on love and loss all the bucks
Jazzed--------
Give me all the pain
Give me all the screams---
Let it ****
Let it bang
Let it groove
Leave me
Please don't make me move
I did wrong
I lose
Jazzed
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 1:55 PM UTC
as three babies thought of the future,
in limbo three souls were put to rest.
why teach soul-economy to the young ones,
when we can blame them for everything instead?
remember the love that she gave you?
i'll want it back by the end of may.
dutifully unprepared to confront youth,
virtually ready for despair.
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 3:01 PM UTC