Bird, Miles, Max forever jazz pride
In the realm where jazz and beats collide,
Bebop's swift notes and hip-hop's pride,
Rhymes like melodies, flows that ignite,
Improv and rhythm, taking flight.
Bird’s soaring solos, Miles’ cosmic sound,
Max on the sticks, where legends are found,
From chromatic whispers to lyrical bars,
Their spirits echo through city stars.
DJ Quik on the West, a storyteller’s grace,
Blending jazz’s soul with a street’s embrace,
A tapestry woven of history and style,
A global language, uniting mile after mile.
Inspiration sparks in every note and phrase,
A voyage of discovery, a timeless maze,
From the heights of avant-garde to the everyday street,
Music’s heartbeat makes us whole and complete.
Bebop and hip-hop, a cosmic dance,
Rhymes and rhythms in a shared trance,
Fly high, groove deep, let the music be your guide,
Bird, Miles, Max — forever in the jazz pride
"Solos come and go, but riffs last forever." ~ Keith Richards
Mick and Keith just came out with a single,
and they say it's a pretty good jingle.
That's why it makes sense
that these elderly gents
have "Rock and Roll Legends" on their shingle.
A kid when they rose from obscurity,
now I've reached a state of maturity;
or said another way,
as of this very day,
I'll be taking social security.
The Stones say our destiny is in stars
to the tune of Keith Richards guitar;
and if you ask me,
I'd have to agree,
just because we've all made it this far.
The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh
The night opens up in a swirl of blue.
A yellow crescent moon solos the distant sky,
Some masked town is central in the midst,
With a pointed church steeple,
Marking the blue-lit sky.
A formidable cypress tree,
Darkens the foreground,
As an artist adds light in the dark.
I remember the first time I heard Ginsberg's voice,
A thunderous, cosmic howl that shook the air,
Like bebop horns wailing in the midnight noise,
A raw, unfiltered cry that stripped away despair.
His words, a jazz improvisation of the soul,
Breathless, wild, spinning in free flight,
A sacred chant, a rebel's roll,
Inviting us to dance in the neon light.
He was the poet as a bebop cat,
Slinging syllables like saxophone solos,
A spiritual anarchist, a love diplomat,
Breaking chains, defying all the old roles.
In his voice, I heard the universe's roar,
A call to be true, unshackled, free,
A portal to the sacred core,
Where art and life merge in harmony.
Allen Ginsberg, the beat's wild star,
Blazing through the darkness with cosmic fire,
His words, a jazz riff from afar,
Forever echoing, lifting us higher to right now, right here
my daughter is kowtowing to her piano tutor as he leaves our home,
which is a bit much
there's no need to turn on the heating in the car
as it takes too long to heat up, so let's save the battery
the sky was looking like it had just attended a funeral,
which is a simile stolen from a student's homework
i've folded up forty pairs of socks as an art piece
and at the jazz club i must begin the applause for the solos
does anyone own a battery powered travel hair dryer?
I’m fighting sleep like Muhammad Ali
Was up so late that it was early
Was listening to music new and old
New Years Eve filled with glitter gold
I was drunk on piano melodies soft
Guitar solos lift your heart high as loft
Song words like hors d oeuvres for my ears
Eating feeding my soul through the years
2025 has left the room by moon
2026 is like a red flower bloom
Opening my eyes with anticipation
A year of hopes and toasts celebration
I've always thought love was made for fools
Who dance on clouds and wish on pennies in pools
And I'm determined that foolish is something l won’t be
So I’ve kept my heart under lock and key
Love is at first sight, and yet its blind
It's with all of your heart and it's out of your mind
And it never made sense to me, so I laid down the law
Said that love is just not for me, and called it a draw
It's easier to cope if my heart's made of stone
It's less pain tomorrow if tonight I’m alone
And I scoffed at the fools with their empty hopes
Displaying their wishes by hanging them on ropes
Dreams were a risk I couldn’t afford to take
So while the fools slept, I forced myself to stay awake
Because I knew that eventually, those ropes would fray
If you build too tall a tower, at some point, it will sway
And a building that stood for many a year
Can be standing one moment, then the next, disappear
So I stuck with my piano, which hasn't let me down yet
I can play beautiful solos, so who needs a duet?
And I stayed away from love, I obeyed my one rule
Cause if I keep my heart safe, I will never be a fool
Once I was starling voice at dawn,
A flock of chimed echoes on my tongue,
Wheezing whistles on choralled lawn,
Each verse a mimic so sweetly sung.
Now I’m a lyrebird lost in the brush,
Framing my solos in shadowed boughs,
With heart unfolding in trembling rush,
A lonesome lilting with hidden vows.
With cheeslets and flummox in my beak,
I sift the flock’s bright feathers from my core,
Icarus maps afresh a path unique,
A broken wing that yearns to soar.
There’s no rewind on a mimic’s mind,
No true home in borrowed refrains,
Yet in these feathers a quiet find,
A voice that’s raised beyond the chains.
.
You laughed too hard in 1996/
Thought I'd trip and stay down for kicks/
But I climbed back up, twice the size/
Now I shred, watch the sparks fly/
My drummer joked, said guitars are lame/
Left him roadside, questioning fame/
Why does a guitar need a case, he asked/
To contain its stringed up past/
Steel strings bend, the pick obeys/
My solos melt minds in dazzling rays/
You call it noise; I call it fate/
Crowds roar, my riffs attack/
Like a clown with a vengeance strapped to his back/
Why did the guitar cross the road/
To escape tuning abuse overload/
Strumming stainless, lyrics sharp/
Every chord bite, every note barks/
What's a guitarist least favorite job/
A fretting accountant, stuck in a fog/
Clowns don't cry, we shred and slay/
This guitar doesn't play, it dictates the day/
Why did the guitar get detention in class/
It couldn't stop playing tricks so crass/
Now I roll into your town, no disguise/
My solos make statues blink their eyes/
One last joke before I'm done/
Why don't guitars ever tell lies/
Because their strings keep them strung/
cool breeze gently hugs
moist mud mildly maneuvers ~
stilled seeds sing solos
A parade of verdant, floating fields
appear within a clouded dream
idyllic islands in the sky
a tranquil vision, peaceful sigh
of heavenly serenity.
Yet now, the scene is set adrift
by ominous and darkened twists
of blackened branches
that weave and weave
they suffocate and bring unease
within this solemn surreal sight
of stricken trees that die at night.
Now all around these floating fields
sad, lonesome cattle graze
they graze and graze
in an endless maze
how strange and sullen are their ways
the mind is in a perpetual haze.
A muted sky surrounds
with drifts amidst the clouds above
and still below, more clouds abound
within this realm, both high and low
dark solos haunt i
they ever wail and mark the spot
where dreams await their end, their lot
by what is not, by what is not.
The Hip Jazz Cat/Tony Adamo
Step up, Man, get up, let me hip you to this/ a jazz cat who weaves words and sings/ People, It’s Giacomo Gates/
He’s the master of vocalese a hipster’s delight/ A storyteller with echoes of Buckley and Mark Murphey’s wise vocal flair/
his voice dances on stages as if floating on air/ Eddie Jefferson’s charm and Jon Hendricks’ grace/ when he opens up to sing/this jazz cat is full of swing/
captivating the crowd he swings a groove spell/ entertaining the masses in jazz clubs that know him well/
He’s amusing and musical/ a hipster so rare/Bebop is in his veins, Man, Giacomo Gates is out of the world and the next one too/ “Where did this cat come from?” Savant Records only knows/
with Bird’s solos beneath him and Giacomo’s melodic variation on words/ turning notes into scatting stories/ Gates be cookin’ the most/ so get hip to it and raise your hands high/ the Gospel of jazz will never die/ dig his jazz scene and let his lyrical journey make you high/ In a world full of noise/ Giacomo Gates is the voice you need, the hipster jazz cat who is somethin’ else, you’ll see, you’ll believe!
Jazz on a billboard,
a flash of notes,
Urgent beats, syncopation, improvisation,
and impromptu solos but why jazz on a billboard?
What’s the hap’s on that?
Man, what is the impact of the word jazz on a billboard anyway?
Syncopation is alive,
solos breaking free,
and a temporary show,
but is jazz here to stay?
Does a billboard for Jazz tell us about all the arranging, playing, composing
finding a paying gig, radio spins, music reviews,
band members quitting to get out of the jazz life?
Cars whiz by, faces turned,
who cares about the sound of jazz anyway
The tenor horn says
"Listen up, Listen here
Jazz is everywhere,
and like nowhere to be found
So, dig this
Every jazz note,
every gig, every miss,
and every jazz player who lives jazz behind
Jazz shapes your life with a heartbreaking rhythm.
So, here’s to the journey,
to hip beats and downbeats
Jazz is life on a billboard,
is hip for some passers-by to see
to feel, to groove, to feel where you're at
To come alive, jazz is for real
and that's my dance in life
2
a tea party for two
just me & you
in your best birthday dress
you'll be a success
we'll have jelly,cream&cake
& a take-home keepsake
there will be games&songs
some solos & a few singalongs
so please.. quickly... r s v p
by text to yours so very truly
Reflected in morning, rising in the still light – birdsong, strumming guitar solos on the winds of hope ~ quote by poet
~~~~~~~~~~
Graceful wings, rustling gently with softest song,
Amazing the wind with ballads so stirring
playing with July’s zeal, in hues who belong.
Singing hope and joy as the stars weep, blurring
Those moments of tender kisses, sharing life
Like the skies with their affections recurring.
Silent mists whisper sighs who cut like a knife,
Stilling aching prayers with sweet compassion,
Healing lonely souls who’ve known such heavy strife.
Love this alive never goes out of fashion,
Listen to that light flowing over blessed souls,
His amazing grace marks the worst fears ashen.
Despite what some believe, only God consoles,
When the worst comes, just believe, His love controls.
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