Best Ella Fitzgerald Poems
Sang like a whippoorwill, up high on a hill
Played trumpet like Satchmo, with panache and skill
To watch that man tap-dance, gave even Gregory Hines a thrill
As Ella Fitzgerald told us, 'Sammy's pure talent' distilled
November 07, 2019
Your Favorite Artist Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
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Notes:
1. See 'The Birth of the Blues,' (movie) c. 1955, b & w,
to view Sammy's exceptional singing, trumpet
playing, and tap-dancing ability. (4:39 clip)
2 See 'Tap,' (movie clip) 1981, to view Gregory Hines,
a remarkable tapper himself, in awe of Sammy's
(and his friends') tap-dancing.
3 See clip of 'Ed Sullivan Show,' 1964, (3 minutes,
27 seconds) to see Ella introduce Sammy as 'pure
talent,' and then to view their incredible jazz singing.
Sitting here in my room
Listening to Ella Fitzgerald
(on what would have been her 90th birthday)
Not so bad to be alone
Health worries bother me
but I have a pen and paper(thank God)
Continue to persist
with my literary efforts
I am haunted by
the shadows
of past masters of verse
I have plenty of them on recordings
Do you share these feelings poets and poetesses?
Leaving behind the hard work needed for success
We have chosen the path of the poet's art
No way to get rich from it
Of course your papers
may fetch a lot of loot - after you are gone
Not much of a comforting thought
By applying yourself to your art you will achieve
what you want to
WHAT YOU MUST
He wipes the tables clean
Picks up the dirty wears
Take out the garbage
Stock the fridge with beers
Cleans the bath room
And mops the floors
Sweep outside on the sidewalks
Before he the doors
Sounds like a lot of work
But he enjoys it everyday
It’s the cotton club
With great jazz music every day
In this boarded up building
On 142nd street and Lenox Avenue
In the central of Harlem
His dreams has come true
In a sense it was segregated
White folks patron the establishment
And the black performers
The will provide the entertainment
And he heard the best musicians
The likes of Duke Ellington, cab Callaway
Nat king Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, count Basie
Josephine baker, mea west, Billie holiday
Some of the great performers he seen
Many comes from all over everyday
The cotton club is renowned worldwide
It’s where the best black musicians play
He thinks he is truly bless
And in his heart it’s what he felt
For just a poor Harlem boy
The music is the soul of his wealth
He remember it like yesterday
But it was 5o years ago
As he passes by the cotton club
He can still hear the music inside the door
He sits in the park watching his grandkids
As they play in a yellow plastic sub
And his mind wonders back as a kid
In the Harlem cotton club
A few nights before Christmas
all was quiet in the apartment
except for a few ghosts milling about in it
Before I went to bed
to rest my head
I thought of the words of a friend
who once said
You are not out of your mind
dreaming you are wide awake
not in your body but another fourth dimension
to your self please be kind
In the middle of the night
came a demanding knock
like Ebenezer Scrooge I was in a fright
Could it be just the wind
or a piece of undigested fruitcake
Could it be just my imagination
or could it be my very end
Not knowing what to do in the situation
I find myself walking in my living room
furniture was missing and the feeling was ghostly white
dead Aunt singing like Ella Fitzgerald in syncopation
The dead are here
The dead are real
Do not be afraid
The dead are on the other side-there
To the front door I went
with much anticipation
to the front portal I went
with much exasperation
But next an orange- red morning sky
the sun has risen to my surprise
in the same living room now bathe in light adorn
like a Christmas greeting card
was left on the floor a picture of me
which was not there the night before
BY STREET CRIES
READING BOOKS TO THE SOUNDS OF JAZZ
ABSORBING TUNES TO A HYPNOTIC PAST
WHERE HORNS ARE BLOWN AND KEYS PLAYED
AT JUST THE RIGHT TONE
ITS A SOULFULL VIBE THAT CREATS A RELAXING
ZONE
PROVIDING THE LATE GREAT DUKE ELLITON A
PLACE TO CALL HOME
MILLES DAVIS RELEASES RHYTHM EQUAL TO A
HORMONIC CELL PHONE
THE LOVELY ELLA FITZGERALD VOICE IS MORE THAN
WELL KNOWN
NATKING COLE SINGS UNFORGETTABLE SONGS THAT
MAKES MONIALISA DREAM
BY ALL MEANS
SPENDING SUMMER TIME IN STORMY WEATHER
BROUGHT YOU AND BILLE HOLIDAY CLOSER TOGETHER
HOWEVER
NOBODY KNOWS HOW LONG AUTUMN IN NEW YORK
LAST LIKE LOUIE ARMSTRONG
AS I CONTINUE ON
CHARLIE PARKER DISPLAYS LOVE FOR SALE THROUGH
HIS SAXOPHONE
LEAVING A HOT HOUSE OF HUNGRY KISSES FROM
GENTLEMAN TO MISSES
EQUAL TRUE WISHES
THESE ARE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AMBITIOUS
LEAVING LISTENERS SPIRITS UPLIFTED
WITH TALENTS THAT SAY UNRESTRICTED
BLESSING THE WORLD THEY VISIT WITH THE TIME
THAT WAS GIVEN
As I dusted off an old jazz LP
A musical genie appeared to me
With seven notes in his hand
And a wish for each one
So I wished to see some singers and bands
Then I traveled back in time
On a C note
To hear the great jazz bands of old
My first stop was with the Count
Count Basie caressed the piano
As the saxophone turned out gold
The bass guitar was strumming away
And I listened to Billie Holiday
As she sang 'Blue Moon'
I then hitched a ride on a D note
And that took me to see the Duke
As I watched him tickle the ivories
I was taken for a ride on the A train
Where I heard him play Moon River
I left the train on an E note
To see Ella Fitzgerald sing
I did not want to depart
Until she sang "Cry you out of my heart"
Then a G note took me away
So I could hear Nina Simone play
I still had a few notes to spare
As Nina sang "My baby don't care.......
Before I left, I wanted to see one last show
So the B note took me to see Louie Satchmo
With his trumpet blaring
To "When the saints go marching in"
It was a great musical affair
And I rode home on the melodic notes
of the great trumpeteer
That's not my elephant that you see.
My elephant is skinny and likes to watch TV
He also has a thin spaghetti trunk.
And likes to kneel and pray like a Monk.
My elephant likes to snort the bill of rights.
While riding 2nd graders day and night.
When my elephant talks on the phone,
He gets Ella Fitzgerald to sing him a song.
Yes my elephant is very intelligent with me.
That's why I say, "That's not my elephant that you see!"
Written for Matt Caliri's "Thant's not my elephant!" contest
Coltrane with Giant Steps coming downstairs, feeling A Love Supreme after two weeks
King going up the mountain and dreaming as he speaks
Miles said, So What... Kind of Blue
Malcolm, By Any Means Necessary, sees it through
Michael, a Dancing Machine, getting Off the Wall for a Thriller
Ali's Rope-a-Dope and Thrilla in Manila
Hank hammering the big 715
Prince's Sign O' the Times in Purple Rain seems
Your work is yours, so get on up and complete your earthly chores
Hansberry's Raisin in the Sun
Madame Walker with her pellucid vision
Aretha's Respect of a Natural Woman
Maya poetically teaches about a Phenomenal Woman
Claudette Colvin on the bus refusing to stand
Angela Davis' incessant fight for the civil rights of "Hue-Man."
Zora Neale Hurston saw "Their Eyes Were Watching God."
"Ella Fitzgerald Sings The Cole Porter Song Book" is no slipshod
Your work is yours; get on up now and complete your earthly chores
Dr. Sebi confidently professes the essence of sea moss
Dr. Cress-Welsing released 'The Isis Papers' like a queen boss
Mae Jemison is traveling into outer space
Wendell Scott blazed through NASCAR without a trace
Ooooooh! When I say your work is yours...
You'd better be getting up and completing your earthly chores
When you play a little Marvin Gaye,
And you mix it up with some Tupac.
You throw in a little Whitney and then
You add just a little Mariah Carey,
Some Ludacris, Some Mary Mary.
Throw in some Fred Hammond,
Aaliyah, Tank, Kirk Franklin,
And Raheem Devaugn's "Woman".
A little Dwele and Common,
Mos Def, Avant and
Gym Class Heroes.
Play some Ray Charles,
Heart, Queen, Ella Fitzgerald,
Paramore, Hawthorne Heights, Musiq Soulchild,
Poison, Case, Rascal Flatts,
Etta James, Louis Armstrong and mix that
With a little DMX and Christina Aguilera,
Destiny's Child, Timbaland the hitmaker,
Chris Brown, Anthony Hamilton, J Moss, Jill Scott.
Mix it up and then you've got
The soundtrack to my life.
She turns me around
Forty years ago
At High School graduation
And she says…
Something I can’t remember
It was probably something like,
‘Well, lookit that!’ or
‘Boy, Howdy!’ or
Some such encouragement
And… though I cannot remember it
Now, I would not part with it
For all the treasures riding
In all the ships on the sea
Music!
She gave me music!
Wagner and Mendelssohn
Beethoven and Duke
Ella Fitzgerald and Leontyne Price
But never the other stuff
Which she called ‘that crap’…
We could laugh
When my dad got angry
He was so ridiculous
Beating the air with his fists
But when MOM got angry
The house went still
Everyone like rabbits hoping to blend in
Once I said a certain word
And she slapped me so hard
That my ears rang for three days
She wasn’t going to take
Any LIP from her children
And ESPECIALLY not THAT… WORD…
Now she is on medication
That makes her loopy
Just a month after I finished
Reading her Harry Potter
With all of the voices
And it looked as though
Her cognition was improving
But her bones are soft
And her spine
It’s a good strong spine I can tell you
Is cracked in two places
She is not a candidate for surgery
So broken it will remain
Unless it heals by itself
I believe in the power of Prayer
So a heart condition
Two strokes
And a Chronic Obstructive
Pulmonary Condition
And a broken back
Are not beyond healing
Human minds though respond sometimes
Only to math
And the math
They say
Only adds up one way
But I prefer art
Which my mother gave me
And which is subject
To interpretation
Maybe this
And
Maybe that
On her last day on earth
My brother says
He will ask
Do you want to talk
About your plan?
And
He says
She will say
Why on earth would I want
To do that?
I am not going anywhere…
Sitting here in my room listening to Ella Fitzgerald (on what would have been her 98th birthday)
Not so bad to be alone
Health worries
trouble me
but I have a pen and paper (thank God)
Continuing to persist with my literary efforts
I am haunted by the shadows
of past masters of verse
I have plenty of them on tape
Do you not feel the same way fellow poets?
We have chosen the path of the poet's art
Of course your poems may fetch a lot of loot after you are gone
Not much of a comforting thought
Our city is known for eating people alive
But by applying yourself to your art
You will achieve
what you want to
WHAT YOU MUST ACHIEVE
DAMN THE NAY - SAYERS
LET THE POEMS COME FORTH!
#A GIFT...AN UPLIFT! A GLORIOUS SHIFT OCCURS WHEN HAVING BEEN PRIVY TO AN OUTSTANDING SINGER! THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW, YOUR HEART FEELS A GLOW...
BECAUSE A SINGER HAS MOVED YOU SO...
"A SINGER HAS M O V E D YOU SO! ! !"
ALLOW ME TO SHOW, AS FOLLOWS...
THE GREAT MR. LUTHER VANDROSS
{ONE AND ONLY, MOST DEFINITELY* SOLELY!}
QUEEN VOICE: WHITNEY HOUSTON
THE DIVINE MS. SARAH VAUGHAN
AL JARRAEU - MORNIN', DISTRICTED, BLUE SKIES
GLADYS KNIGHT
OLIVIA NEWTON JOHN
PHYLLIS HYMAN
KAREN CARPENTER
TEDDY PENDERGRASS, SHARON TATE AND
HAROLD MELVIN
AMY WINEHOUSE - "LOVE IS A LOSING GAME"
SEAL, CHRIS ISAAK, TOM JONES
BROOK BENTON, DAVID RUFFIN, LOU RAWLS
BING CROSBY, FRANK SINATRA AND ELLA FITZGERALD
LEN CARIOU - "PRETTY WOMEN"
ANITA BAKER, REGINA BELL AND CHAKA KHAN
STEVIE WONDER, TONI TENNILLE, LUKE EVANS,
MARVIN GAYE, ADAM LAMBERT AND
RUSSELL THOMPKINS JR.
ANGELA WINBUSH - "ANGEL"
JOHNNY CASH, K.D. LANG AND
FREDDIE MERCURY
SARA BAREILLES - "SMILE"
NANCY WILSON, BARBARA STREISAND AND
SARAH VAUGHAN
JOHN DENVER, JOSE FELICIANO, AND
JOHNNIE WILDER, JR.
NAT KING COLE, BARRY WHITE AND
ISAAC HAYES
LEON THOMAS - "SUNFLOWER"
MINNIE RIPPERTON, DORIS DAY, AND
TEENA MARIE
CELINE DION, LUCIANO PAVAROTTI, AND
PUTRI ARIANI
STEVE PERRY, LABI SAFFRI AND
ROBERTA FLACK
THE GREAT DONNY HATHAWAY
THIS WAS ONLY TO NAME "A FEW"
WHO'S MISSION BLEW US AWAY...
MADE OUR SOUL SWAY, WITH A MEMORABLE TAKEAWAY! IT'S THOSE UNFORGETTABLE, INCREDIBLE NOTES SUNG IN SUCH A WAY, FROM THEIR SIGNATURE INLAY...
"FROM THEIR S I G N A T U R E IN-LAY ! ! !"
THEIR GIFT, OUR UPLIFT, WHAT'S MORE PURE? NOTHING SHORT OF THAT, THAT'S FOR SURE!
WOW!!! WHAT MEMORIES....
SUCH EVOKING OF OUR SENTIMENTS AND SENSORY...
WHEN A VOICE WAS CREATED TO REMEDY! ! !
"THANKS SO VERY MUCH...ELLA! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !"
Renee D. Gross {GHPPR} September 12, 2023#
That’s not my elephant!
No way, no how.
That elephant’s a bull -
Mine is a cow!
That’s an African elephant;
Everyone can see.
My elephant’s Italian -
Not from the Serengeti.
Don’t read to me the bill of rights;
I know my elephant by sound and sight.
Ella Fitzgerald may use Memorex,
But my elephant and me, we never forget.
So, take that elephant back to the Serengeti;
You’re not gonna leave that bull with me.
No, I am not an elephant hater,
You just can't pull one over on me like second graders.
One pet elephant is quite enough;
Making room for two is just too tough.
I’ll put out this vat of baked spaghetti
And my Italian elephant will come home to me.
Sammy Davis and Ella Fitzgerald, jazz singers
Their b'deed'lee-dip riffs on the Sullivan show didn't linger
In America's consciousness, and that's really too bad
They were surely the best jazz singers America's ever had
Ella Fitzgerald (1917 – 1996)
In the midst of stale fog – Is it day or night?
The dimmed dishevelled lights don’t give a bass clef
Whilst notes made syncopated love at the bar
A tsunami of discord,
blew out the flame of a good old fashioned
And lipstick-stained stubbed ends forgot bruised anguish
A minor digress
Untainted melodies,
swung from a silhouette commissioned from a Nova
Calling humanity to bath in the melody of birdsong
Quenching dried remnants of bourbon with a perfect pitch
Of rare cut diamond chords and rip
Each instrument paused before the bar
As the voice tootled a trumpet sound
The lady knew how to blow that horn
Yet, no brass brushed against her lips
Then, silence waited in awe for the coveted scat
From the sui generis range of a regal gemstone
Where the constellations hold the original cut
With lulled echoes flowing to hit ‘rewind’