PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Adjusting the lips around the mouthpiece,

keeping them close as the “Mmm,” sound

is produce, now blow into the trumpet and

hears its bell ring—Miles Davis here we go.

Little drummer boy on the snares rattling

sounds of rain; hypnotizing melody, groovy,

yeah baby!

Jazz, my new love affair inspiring musical

poetry; here comes Trane with his saxophone,

the All-Stars on American Band Stand.

Each tune in beat, in sequence…

”tatarara, tara tara,

pumpumpumpumdumdimdumdum,

tumtimtarara,” and the music goes on and on,

marvelous harmony.

Controversial; music without words it’s just

music and not a song, yet the impact Jazz music

brings to my soul is like black tar heroin through

a needle in my veins.

The rush, the cold shivers and shakes; Jazz

musicians sweating profoundly, rapid heartbeat in

sequence with the tune; it’s the high rolling drugs

baby! Yeah!

The music to forget their troubles, heroin to escape

the reality, taken advantage by white music

producers; Cadillac Records paid with Cadillac cars

and chump change enough for the tar.

Jazz is here, no more blues, late payment dues,

“I don’t care, sue me!” while I get high without the

heroin or syringe—Mary Jane, Jazzmin baby, Soul!