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Best Poems Written by Tony Adamo

Below are the all-time best Tony Adamo poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Funkin At the Chickin Shack

Funkin AT THE CHICKEN SHACK – Tony Adamo - 1990

Jimmy Smith was laying down an incredible riff on a wall of kinetic sound that was oozing out of my car radio. I was on my way back from a singing gig at an Indian Restaurant. Saturday night is jazz night in the City by the Bay. On my approach to the Bay Bridge, I could see the fog was cold and watery wet, as it lay low and crept along like solders on night patrol in Vietnam.

I steered my Chevy Nova like it was a priceless Lamborghini the musical transition of thought. No traffic on the B Bridge…2:00AM on the steel span and all was right with me. Jimmy smith with friends Kenny Burrell, Stanley Turrenting, and drummer, Donald “Duck” Bailey were my musical guides for the ride.

I dug deep as I had to slow down. The fog was horror movie thick. Now I had time to think to the 100th power. Sho’ ‘ nuff and came up with Don Patterson, Richard Groove Holmes,Charles Earland, George Fame, Wild Bill Davis, Shirley Scott, Big John Patton, Baby Face Willette, Larry Young, Brother Jack McDuff, Jimmy Magriff. That’s where it’s at baby. The royal bloodline of B-3 players who brought us into R&B, Pop, Rock & Roll and Soul Jazz. Into the swingin’ feature goes Joey “D”. No boundries, no limits.
Bridge:
Back at the Chicken Shack people dancin’ to a kookin’ groove.
Breakin’ out into a funk sweat
Boogie sounds brewin’ from the B-3
Your twisted sister never danced like that
Reuben Wilson and his killer sounds was a stackin’ the beat shakin’ the Chicken Shack down to its feet
(Solo)
(Bridge)
What a beautiful and dynamic management of mind, body and intellect goes into coaxing Soul Jazz out of a fat Hammond B-3 organ. Was it the foggy, misty, jazzy night? Or…was it that I actually got paid to sing Jazz? No! It was Jimmy Smith’s playin’ that was vibbin’ me along the steel rail. The joyous atmosphere that hung in dense textures of musical thought was punctuating my life like bayonets turning to thumb prints on the consciousness of my creative mind. It was in thick reference to the wet fog rippling across the bridge, like fingers on a Hammond B3, Jimmy and me……free to be.
From Tony Adamo's Miles of Blu Cd/ Hipspoken Word

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Iceman the Bronx

The Iceman the Bronx/Tony Adamo

I DIG THAT THE ICEMAN’S BACK, HITTING THE SPOKEN WORD STAGES IN THE BRONX AND THE OTHER BOROUGHS IN NEW YORK/AFTER ALL HE IS BORN AND BREAD IN DE BRONX/WORD SPITTER/ JAZZ SCATTER/GOT THE CITY TURNED ON IT’S LITERARY HEAD/AS THE ICEMAN WOULD SAY/ GOT TO REDUCE THE OTHER SPOKEN WORD ARTIST’S TO ASH BEFORE I DIE/ MR. B, THE BRONX BOMBER/THE BRO WHO EVERY ONE KNOWS/YOU CAN DIG THE CONGO STREET BEAT IN YOUR EARS THROUGH HIS WORDS/POPIN’ STORY TELLIN’ BREAK DANCIN’ JAZZY TURNTABLE BREAK DOWN OF WORD PLAY/MAN DIG THIS CAT’S FUSION OF JAZZ MUSIC PUT TO SPOKEN WORD POETRY/ HE LISTENS AND SAMPLES INTO HIS MIND HEAD/ THE GREAT JAZZ HORN PLAYERS SOLO’S TO BE TURNED INTO A SOUND SYNERGY OF JAZZY WORDS/ MAN ,I CAN DIG IT, THAT FLOW THE ICEMAN HAS/ FOR THE RHYTHMIC FEEL OF IMPROVISATION IN AND INBETWEEN WORDS/IS PURE WORD ART, CAN YOU DIG IT?/ ON SOME GIG’S/ICEMAN’S SPOKEN WORD JAZZ COMES OUT LIKE COLTRANE’S SOLO ON GIANT STEPS/ HIS GRAFFITI LACED VOICE INFLECTON ON CULTURE AND SOCIAL ISSUES/ WILL HAVE YOU COLLIDIN’ AND TURNIN’ YOUR THOUGHTS INTO GIANT STEPS/ ICEMAN ON THE DECK OF FREE THINKING JAZZ WORDS/A DJ WORD HIPSTER/ THE SPOKEN WORD KING OF THE BRONX/HE’S GOT THAT LYRICAL CONTROL AND NO CONTROL/ MAN, THAT’S WAY OUT/SYNCOPATED RHYTHMS DROP LIKE PAINTED WORDS SPRAYDED ON THE LEX AVE EXPRESS SUBWAY TRAIN/ HE’S NOT FAR FROM THE BEAT WORLD OF KEROUAC,GENSBERG, AND PHIL LAMANTIA/ BEAT POETS OF THE COUNTERCULTURAL MOVEMENTS OF THE 1960s/ MAYBE THE ICEMAN IS A SPOKEN WORD PLAYRIGHT OR A ABSTRACT PAINTER OF WORDS/ SO DIG THIS/HE’S NOT VINTAGE OR INDIE/ BUT WAY INTO TODAY AND TOMORROW AND GONE/DEEP IN THE CATACOMBS OF NEW YORK CITY’S SOUNDTRACK OF BLOOD ,SWEET, AND TEARS/YOU CAN CATCH HIS VIBE/ AIN’T NO WAY TO HOLD HIM BACK NOW/HIS SPOKEN WORD MUSIC DELIVERY JUMPS ON THE ELEMENTS AND COMBINES JAZZ, FUNK AND SOUL WORD TUNES/ TO LAY THE LISTENER OUT WITH HIS DISTINCTIVE WORD SPEAK, SPOKEN JUMPIN’ WORD/ HIS STORYTELLIN’ POETRY WILL BEND YOUR MIND/ THE ICEMAN BREATHS LIFE INTO THE SOUL OF THE SPOKEN WORD WORLD OF JAZZ SPEAK

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Groove Culture

Groove Culture
yo, to the mixes that keep on flowing, jazzy house, the real deal, a natural movement, let that rhythm heal/
 Groove Culture, WHOOO YEAAA, blast it out, let the world hear you shout/
 with huge speakers thumping In the trunk of your ride/ feel the heartbeat let the bassline guide you with some of the sickest slickest beats in your drive/
  James Brown’s got his sex machine workin’/
the dude had style and was a true pioneer/ JB  funkified the soul of the nation/ and lit up drive-in back set love-making/

Nasty girls moving, Booty up, baby, living the dream/
  hip Hoppers, standin’ tall, much respect to DMX, Black Rob, Shock G, and Biz Markie, legends for all time, their echoes live on, eternally/
 people gonna be jamming to their cuts a hundred years from now/
 man, rap, hip hop, music that transcends time/
 rap and basketball from the 90s/what a slam jam/
  so let’s celebrate the sound in the round/ the rhythm that unites, never uptight/
 In the heart of the groove, where we love to do the Humpty Hump  Dance/
 Massive respect, and many blessings, keep it real people/
 In this culture of mayhem, threats, and political gain/
keep the truth alive with no pain…

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Spoken Word Poetry: Jazzed Up Afrobeat

Spoken Word Poetry: Jazzed Up Afrobeat
 Without jazz, Life would be a mistake— A symphony of silence, an empty canvas, where melodies fade and dreams escape/
 But then, oh! We jazz it up, Afrobeats lifts me high, Where the saxophone sings, and women swing, And the rhythm finds its way/
 Dancing through my veins, Like a heartbeat, An echo of Fela in the night Afrobeat sax, Jazz night ignites the stars, Riveting, absorbing, Sounds dope in my Mercedes ML350, Rolling through the city/
 Every note a pulse, Every beat jumpin’ in Afro Town, More power to you/
 Fela didn’t just bring Nigeria to the world— No, he got the world to Africa, Opening doors, Creating bridges, and Uniting souls across borders. Well, done, Sisters and brothers, this is real Afrobeat! /
 A celebration, a revelation, Joy cascading like a waterfall, Happiness flowing, A soundtrack of life, An anthem for the bold. Omo ope, You always have money to give, Your name echoes in the rhythms/ Afrobeats— The modern genre, A fusion, a blend, African rhythms collide with global sounds, Hip-hop, dancehall, pop/
 A vibrant tapestry of unity. Dominating today’s scene, It captures the high-energy vibe, The essence of African life, From hustle culture echoes, To nightlife’s embrace, We grind, we celebrate, In every track, every line, The spirit of resilience shines/
 This is it! Feel the beat, let it lift you, without jazz, Life would be a mistake, But with Afrobeats, we find our rhythm, our joy, our place, In this beautiful blend, We are alive, We are whole, We are music whole -n whole

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Dig What I Say

Say, dig what I say
Talkin’ bout a new jazz vibe/
Man, move over/
the Jazz Cookers are hittin’ their stride in the groove to stay alive/
Eddie Henderson/
Cecil McBee/
George Cables,Billy Hart
and Billy Harper/
swingin’ harder jazz be flying/
downbeat, upbeat, man, count It off/
their soul auras are in the jazz notes they play/
David Weiss and Donald Harrison are fryin’ their amps/
burnin’ the house down/
with the jazz club scene in decline/
and record labels cuttin’ back on jazz/
the jazz Cookers have to stay alive and relevant in a jazz-changing world/
so dig, be cool struttin’ as Sonny Clark would say/
you might not always get a payday but you love to play/
the Cookers boss horns are  on fire/
hip tones blowin' from the stage/bro, this is the jazz life you chose and after a gig, you might be all alone/
so be in the moment and improvise on your jazz note phrasing/
you’ll find the rhythm and meaning knowing you can play the same note gig after gig night after night/
but different every time/
are you hip to the Cookers?/
they will have you finger poppin’ and  blowin' your mind/
wahoo that’s a whole lotta jazz

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Wee Willie Bo

WEE WILLIE BO By Tony Adamo...

In the heart of the Delta, where the Mississippi flows, Wee Willie Bo, a soulful storyteller, arose.
Twelve-bar phrases, a blues rhythm so fine, Blue notes whisper secrets, like aged wine.
From sharecropper roots, his journey took hold, in the fields of hard labor, he crafted his plan to unfold.
With John Hurt’s country blues etched in his mind, he dug way deep, seeking solace in the new blues sound he would find.
Man, he found the Chicago blues scene, electric and way down raw, where his voice flew way high, breaking every law.
Amazing blues vocals, aching in pain, each note a tear, each chord a haunting refrain. Low down and gritty, he sang of hard times, bad times, struggles, and heartbreaks, the rhythm and rhymes.
Delta blues chords danced in the air, the blues in his soul was his love affair, and the sorrow in his melodies recorded in despair.
Wee Willie Bo a blues talkin’ man, with every strum of the guitar, Bo rewrote the blues jam. His broken-down soul is a testament to grace, In the world of the weary, he found his place.  listen closely, and let the blues take hold. For every note, there’s a story told. From the Delta to Chi-town, his legacy flows, and Wee Willie Bo, the heart of the blues, forever grows.

Best Poems Written by Tony Adamo

Sun Ra Rockets To Mars

Nu-Jack Kerouac

Those Meat Pies

Jb

Funkin At the Chickin Shack

Iceman the Bronx

Groove Culture

Spoken Word Poetry: Jazzed Up Afrobeat

Dig What I Say

Wee Willie Bo