cruising
July 14, 2010 at 3:49 pm | Posted in jazz poetry, poetry, writing | 13 CommentsTags: jazz poetry, poetry, writing
gaily traipsing road crossing
daffodils and dandelions fluttering wakeward
as he passes
and a scent between miner and metal
hobnailed
playing ‘dancing with cars’
This bus is very quiet he thinks
And Tuesday!
Spectacularity!
Yet another icecream sky
why is a letter of the alphabet
who the noise of owls
how a pleasant greeting
when a minor chord
what a measure of electrickery
Ducks down the alleyway
Waddle and a quack
Fruit salad breakfast
Back to formularity
rainbow graffiti trailing beauty
curlicues of exuberant joy crisscrossing
as he passes
and a music between oscarrrpeterson and
the brickwork
playing ‘reality, it’s a great place to be,
the gentle art of soft landings
June 28, 2010 at 7:28 pm | Posted in australian poetry, jazz poetry | 11 CommentsTags: jazz poetry, Joseph Tawadros, Oud, poetry, writing
Suddenly his hands forgotten,
Take one moment to see my work he said breathing dirt
and holding out an open hand tis true one develops
a heart of stone when one sleeps rarely
and only in certain uncouth company, yesterday
a gilded cage
then under bridges
fallen
Sketched you in Morocco
standing naked hips tilted,
at the window in the morning
thinking about breakfast.
with a twist on ice, if it’s not too Dean Martin, omerta
principles with an end to occam Picasso was an immaculate
draughtsman before he was a Cubist without
being sweeney practiced my grammar, recap
italising the ‘I’ and using ‘one’ as in one may assume?
between the keeping of secrets and the breaking of promises
insert ocean metaphor here teddy as I explored your consent
to my manipulations of the roots of language and gloried in my power.
remember that car exit bridge alternate endings either way and both shot down
left you standing by that river shivering and her dying
hyannis port, white sails blue horizon,
on the occasion of another passing
found at the centre Matsuo Basho
giggling over a still pond no frogs nor
the sound they make when they land
(written as a first attempt at the National Jazz Writing Competition)
Loci
August 1, 2009 at 4:47 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 13 CommentsTags: extempore, jazz poetry, poetry, writing
keith jarrett realising it
was the wrong piano
twenty minutes to go plays
the Koln Concert
perhaps the piano was right
pats his jacket pocket
an end to romance
just his Yakuza hands realising
absynthe again
one wedgetailed eagle
dividing the sun
(This poem appeared in Extempore Magazine, Issue #3)
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