Dock of the Cosmic Bay
Did Sun Ra think in holographic time/
past and future turning on one wheel/ Saturn ringing like a cymbal beneath Marshall Allen’s horn and its cosmic cry/
The Arkestra boarded freight trains of sound/ smoking rails through midnight skies/
robes bright with Egyptian constellations/ saxophones splitting the dark into day gigs of wonderment/
Then Otis rose from the Georgia gospel/
His voice is rough as rope/ warm as bread/
singing from the Dock of the Bay where silence waits/ and every wave remembers the dead/
One built a vessel out of thunder and space time/
One made heartbreak a soulful testimony/
Both knew Earth was only a classroom/
Space is the place/ Soul time music was the reason why/
When time has officially ended/the stars lean close to hear what/
Sun Ra's Arkestra drifting across the water, a cosmic chord dissolving fear/
Space is the place/
Otis Redding's Soul music is the way/
And love/ the oldest spacecraft/
carries us beyond today.
We don't need time apart
Darling have a heart
show mercy
be more compassionate.......
We speak
heart to heart
Cheek to cheek
a solution is
what we seek
I've played around
you done your dirt
never mind
let get pass the hurt
let us speak
heart to heart
Keep me in
your concern
I listen
than speak
when it's my turn
I hear Saxophones playing
sticking moving strings
I understand what
your saying
but right now
I rather hear you sing
Heart to Heart
Cheek to cheek
what solutions
do we seek
I love you
my heart of gold
I hear the Auh ooh --ooh's!
the Auh ooh-ooh wolly ooh's
my Auh you marry ooh!
I'll marry you's
our heart to heart
our cheek to cheek!
t is characterized by a low-register brass melody, a fast chromatic guitar riff, and mood
surf-style electric guitar (played on a 1939 Clifford Essex Paragon) brass (trumpets, trombones), seven saxophones, and a rhythm section (upright bass, drums, piano a synthesizer
I
Kegal before me
Might then I'll love
You
We as one
Kegal before me
To intise my need
of suckegal
Kegal
Kegal
Your strength
Your wisdom
Kegal
Kegal
Kegal
My need for
Such
The hizzdom
Longful yearning
Your kegaling thrust
A need in your optimism
Kegal me as much
Yeah, that's you
Yeah it's me
Kegal me lady
Take the time for me
__________________________
Kegal Yosef
Kegal Yosef
Kegal me lady
Kegal me all night long
The Vik Flick Remix
---------------------------
A few articulate with humor and grief,
others are hinged
so that ears can hear each other.
Many bones are scaffolds
for vision, prayer and procreation.
One hollow bone hums in the throat,
it channels the smoky saxophones
of consciousness.
When death comes to nibble holes
into breastplates and ramparts
an osseous honeycomb of memory
forms caves,
cavities for disembodied thoughts.
Mind, of course, has always had
its own immortal bones and marrow,
and so even
the humble bitsy sparrow.
Whisper is jealous of Josh's black leather boots and Katie's fur lined boots, so they have a threesome to make up for it. They frolic in the moonlight, playing the oboe, xylophone, and vacuum, drooling and spanking each other. Then, the platypus, jackal, and whale join in, hammering out a rhythm on the pajamas, racing the tortoise, and jumping the rabbit's tail. Suddenly, the clocks, magazines, and movies come alive, streaming dirty gray hounds, tungsten spigots, mothers' spleens, kidneys, and tonsils, and cannabis shouting at the moon. The saxophones vomit sand and the pianos strike Jacks, while clouds batter receipts and panty liners. Finally, the cantaloupe refrigerator seals the deal, and the night is filled with laughter.
In the city's limits at dark,
All the lights were in a glow
From corner to corner stood
The brightness shimmered its shows.
It is something to view at night,
If you haven't been to the city before
Put it on your bucket list,
And go on vacation in New York,
Oh, don't resist!
The hustle and bustle that goes on,
Those street players performing
Whatever their art, craft, or music
They'll be doing some ameliorating,
Be sure they'll do it!
You'll hear the saxophones,
And the brass horns to
Those series of strings bring them
Blues players up from Blackwood Gorge.
The Mardi Gra is the city that lives.
Oh, those blues are playing,
Its echoes are from corner to corner
Those brass cymbals are swaying
Like the slippery, shambling water
On a tin roof when it's raining.
I've got the lecture notes ready
I've got the examples
Just blow what I'm telling you to blow
I am responsible for the resurgence of the sales of saxophones
I unlock the doors of my car
By raising my right palm
You saw the crescent
I saw sod all
You need a guitar player
Bass and the whole caboodle
But don't stop there
Get yourself some
Man clarinets
And ear trumpets
In fact
Sack the band and
Just have a sax on stage
And horn away
Nostril reeds and
Ostentatious bellowing
I'll be your mouthpiece
I'll pretend to be from L.A.
Cringetown bottom burp
sing me a tom petty tune
sing a bad company yarn
i've got my place in time
i'm set for the duration
i can't help falling in love
so take my hand, you've got
my whole life too
some things are meant to be
isn't this one of them?
let's just go to the cabin down below
would it be a sin?
you know, i can't stop biting you
the back of your neck
your ample butt
that spot behind your knee caps
i'd like that, an evening of lips on flesh
if not for my careless heart
we'd be there already and not
standing here wondering
let's just go to the cabin down below
close our eyes and find our way
to the cabin down below
you're simply awesome
no more love on the run
time to slow down
wait for the moment
dream of the moment
grab the moment
and take that walk
on the wild side
listen! isn't that David Sanborn's Carly's Song?
there's no fear here
nothing but sweet saxophones
and even sweeter sex
talk to me, tell me all the things you want
to find in your life
i'll be here, just outside the door
holding my heart in my hand
C2023 Thomas Lee Rhymes February 14, 2023
(apologies to Tom Petty, and others)
cockeyed mice played saxophones at the table
anyway, the loudest one does, the other we call Mable.
they scurry around as fast and far as they are able
stealing from the kitchen, the laundry room and stable.
cockeyed mice love to dance, dart, wiggle and sing.
we see them running in the corners of everything
there is screaming sometimes as they dash and zing.
the soft spoken mouse goes by the name of Wing.
He wished it to be full of sound.
round about the way successful
collaborations are done.
Fun: done: and Right.
Sought of like taking the featured
artist's position and elaborating on it.
People still love rock, urban
contemporary grooves
and soulful bassey pieces.The stigma
around marriage
seems to cause discussion.
Is it good news? The two lovers united:
or one lover and one willingful participant.
Or one eager and one uneagerly: but willing
to be. A new position appointed by the direction
of the evolution in sequence. from
stranger to friend to lover
to fiancce?fiancé: then to wife or husband.
WeIrDO. than non be alienated through such
sequence.
Six saxophones
11 bass instruments
a rhythm section
the motif uses two classic guitars.
A 1939 English Clifford Essex Paragon
and a Bass Alembic Series
He Brazen I'm Kabosh
we are Kings of the Coliseum!
The Grand Inspector sings
and the
Brazen Serpent commands.
The Indirect passing reference.
Brothers agreed on almost nothing
Except the sax, which bound them spiritually.
They came together to play at their mother’s funeral
She was watching, naturally, loving her sons
All three brothers kept their grief to themselves
Sharing no feelings, for it is not manly, right?
Their saxophones did their talking for them.
“Those are my boys!” Mom said to the angels.
Clatter of happiness fatten our ears with/
Spirited praises & glorifications.
Drums - alto saxophones - eject contents
Of heavenly beats & lyrics / Our feet know too many dance steps- As attestation to the lord
For the bell of another year jingle to our witness in glorious shape.
Hubbub of crackers strip the air off its scent - nothing smells but A Roasted Pork Sausage
The "Gbo-a" of a new year sends concern to the weak health of old mama(s) & papa(s)
The outcry threaten the ears of little babies/ Revealing Toothless smiles to the multiple colors birthed by the awful crackers
With our happiness tonight - won’t God’s ears be deafened by our noise?
Some float,
move on the diameter of a whim.
A few articulate between joy and grief,
others are hinged
so that ears can hear each other.
Most are scaffolds.
One hollow bone hums in the throat,
it channels the smoky music
of sub-conscious saxophones.
A few are honeycombed for memory
and procreation.
One is a cave for old mind-muddles,
it has a window view.
All the others
are flesh garbed trombones
that slide in and out
to unlock our whoopee cushions
with their skeleton keys.
© a day ago
saxophones
bluest notes intrigue
one cool cat
Some are free floating
they can move on the diameter of a whim.
A few articulate with humor and grief,
others are hinged
so that ears can hear each other.
Many bones are scaffolds
for vision, prayer and procreation.
One hollow bone hums in the throat,
it channels the smoky saxophones
of the mind.
When death comes to nibble holes
into breastplates and ramparts
perhaps an osseous honeycomb of memory
will form caves
for disembodied thoughts
and just maybe
we will still be there,
to think them
as ghosts in some immortal marrow.
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