MILES AND POLLOCK
The smoky clubs of thought/ where shadows dance and poets talk of truth whispered low/man, a story without end/ can you dig it, my friend/ improvisation’s the key, always unlocked in time, a jazz riff echoing truth in research of a paradigm/
assumptions about the nature of reality in jazz talk, scales, and harmonies, the framework we embrace/is not life the same? like established knowledge, but thinking out of frame, lighting up the space, to build on a jazz note we create, we innovate, say, give the funky drummer some/
just like Miles on his horn, exploring what's in the score, man, the vibing brain, a hipster’s thought, where networks of creativity ignite, and a conscious soul control breaks through/
The mind unfurls its thinking wings, a melody takes flight in a jazzed-up symphony of science, burning ever so tight/
a rock steady beat, the rhythm deepens, but the jazz spills over, it paints a wider scene, Pollock's action strokes, vibrant, raw, and jazzy, mean/
Oh, but the freedom in his canvas, a rhythm in his hand like McCoy Tyner’s dancing on the keys/
improvisation's spirit, always in jazz and graffiti wall art on subway trains sprayed across the Bronx highlands/Miles himself, he painted too, abstract hues so bold, from horn to brush he journeyed, a creative, restless soul/ life jazz influence profound, taking its hammering toll on his body and soul/
man, the tempo picks up, into the evolution of funk more emphatic, much more in the pocket of James Brown/ ya dig? exploration, a pattern found, a quantum leap into the unknown jazz heap of sounds/ like a jazz horn solo taking a giant step into the ubiquity of a jazz riff, a seed that has been sown across the river of stars/
In science and music, the spirit intertwined/a quest for understanding, etched upon a circle of fifths/ and the universal wind cries Mary, a jazz solo vast like a Jimi Hendrix acid jazz blast/
repeating rhythms echo across jazz music and cosmology/ in spoken word harmonies with in and out thinking with room for improvisation, improvise your life, and breathe it in/ get hip to the rhythm in your soul/ let it flow, man/
Let the jazz of physics make you brilliantly whole/gung-bow-chi, chi, gung-bow/ drums as the backbone to the funk thing/ It’s a strong emotional and spiritual bond into Life, and the physics of the Jazz sound
Copyright ©
Tony Adamo
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