Jazz: Rhapsody in You

Prelude

In the quiet of my mind
I can hear a big band play
“stella by starlight” in sync
with the night of a thousand
eyes a zillion light years away.

Pt. 1

I
dream
ad-libbed
verses of
the look of love. &
your song will be immortalized
within the musings of my own syncopated sighs.

Pt. 2

So deeply
enraptured
by the rhapsody of you am I
wanting
to be where you are
in the chronography of life.
with hope
even at the end of my rope
I walk in faith
that you will see me as I
see you, dream
you, as though we were
that sanctuary
I’ve been longing to discover.

Pt. 3

In
search
of rare
beauty, I
dig of you in grooves
that go bang! zoom, “how high the moon”

in
a
portrait
of blue notes
& drum strokes painted
in the solos of tone poets

on
a
canvas
of stardust
& midnight silence
autographed by nocturnal eyes.

Pt. 4 — Noises, Sounds & Sweet Airs

There
is
an art
to noises,
mere music of
the mind with only
the clock of my heart to pilot
through the labyrinths of life & labors of sweet love

with
its
own sounds
& sweet airs
intrinsically caught
just between something & nothing
calling me to your heartbeat forever fused with time

in
the
sanctum
of embrace
when mine eyes meet thine.

Pt. 5 — Till 2morrow

& till 2morrow comes (though not promised)
singin hello, haven’t I seen you
before? with poetry as its
instrument, whistlin away
the dark with the sunrise
right out of nowhere
right through them there
quiet eyes
I’ll still
dream

of walkin through the open door of your
heart, so glad to hear the jazz in you,
elated by syncopated
time signatures that sing your
body electric. you
are music that speaks
when words can’t reach
me, so much
more than
friends.

Pt. 6 — Where Heaven Meets The Earth

As
I
chase fate
down pavements
framed in golden rays

the
sun
strums strings
of tattered
clouds walking on air

in
tune
to skies
reflecting
onto seas that deem:

the horizon is a masterpiece.

Pt. 7 — Love in Pursuit of Happiness

Love is happiness
as Al Green sings, “glad you’re mine”
whether I’m with you

or not. it is a right now
spawn-taneous from here

on out kinda thing.
because sooner than love ends
another begins.

& once again, poetry
is the mistress of my heart.

love asks for nothing
in pursuit of happiness
till I have found you.

Pt. 8 — Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark

Heading east of the full moon
night catches us
like a dreamcatcher, in a loom
of silken spontaneity
basking
in the cosmic river’s invitation
to temptation
amidst its
voyeurs
for night has a thousand eyes
studying the steps
of shadowdancers
whose amalgamation of movements
is a prosaic mosaic orchestration of maneuvers
so seductively conducted
by the dark.

Pt. 9 — The Shape of My Heart

The
shape
of my
heart is contoured
to the secret geometry of stars

as Earth tunes her timbre to the black gold
of Sol (& the
cow still jumps
over
the

moon).
meanwhile
electric
music of the
muses stirs the champagne supernova

in
the sky
breathing dreams
that rather than
die, swim back to the sea of forever.

just listen as they mimic the hands of time
in sync with God
the cosmos
& my
soul.

Pt. 10 — Lifeblood

They
say
1st love
is such sweet
despair, like these words
penned in delicious agony

of
the
very
ecstasy
crisscrossing currents
between my body & soul. more
than just a metaphor, you dwell from my first to last

verse
(&
I heed
the basic
instructions before
leaving Earth), as though poetry

were
the
lifeblood
chanting down
walls of Babylon
with words as guardians of love.

&
it
is you
who will be
fulfillingness’
first & last finale, flying

high
like
a bird
of beauty
inescapable
of the air we breathe, immortal
as the clockwork of spirits transcending life & death.

Pt. 11 — One Love

How
my heart
sings the blues
of yesterday,
oh how my heart sings in its own sweet way:

a forgotten tune of liberation–
“let freedom ring”
like a bell
that calls
truth

home
to be
heard, for once,
in the voice of
the voiceless in rage against the machine,

as the hypocrites make my blood just race
& my heart screech.
& my mind
just screams
stop!!!!

like
movement
in traffic
during rush hour,
our appetite for destruction must cease!!!

in the name of love!! Oh how my heart sings!
in spite of hate
we are one
world, not
three.

Pt. 12 — Bojangles Tapping On My Brain

& I
vow to let loose
the music of my mind
as measure upon measure comes
to life

tapping
like Bojangles
on the staircase dancing
never stumbling over my words
ever.

Pt. 13 — Words & Sounds (music to the ear)

Words
prosaic, mosaic
speak, tell, show
poetry, expression, rhythm, jazz
jam, ad lib, solo
extemperaneous, soulful
Sounds.

Pt. 14 — Amor E Saudade

(for LAHSH)

No
doubt
time has
changed your name.
but, amor e saudade
are one in the same sweetest pain.

more
than
a thought
or feeling,
I see that my words
& the ocean of emotion
wailing within the agony of my melody

fell
short
of your
cheating heart’s
great expectations…
hope your grass grows green with envy
that your face no longer frames my sweetest ecstasy.

the
time
has come
to long no further
for she who was not meant 2B.

Pt. 15 — This Art Starts With Rhythm

This art starts with rhythm

ain’t nothin’
occult about it
for me.
it is what it is
which is

prosody
walkin’ in rhythm
in spite
of ebb tide’s return
to sea.

Pt. 16 — As If

(inspired by Langston Hughes’ “Desire”)

In
the
dancing
dark, no doubt
painted in shadows
of our mingling limbs intertwined,
as if we were grapes on a vine waiting to be picked

we
are
embers
of embrace
igniting the black
chill of night with molten kisses
that travel the trek of our trunks until sound colors

the
walls
of this
naked room
with beautiful moans
that roam and linger there, as if
to unrecite the silent whispers of the stale air.

Pt. 17 — I’ve Grown Accustomed to Your Face

Where
Heaven
meets Mother Earth, I am witness
to the cosmology
of her countenance

cohabiting wrinkles
of sun on the horizon. as though
for the first time with every glimpse
she pours emotion into measures
of life distilled

in her to be continued
euphony of song that invites
the world & I to inhale the chorus
of singing winds
& crying beasts

in probably
the closest thing
to a formal introduction
of vers libre
we shall see

…&

at your altar, as ars
poetica muses
the melange of your
flowering amor
preening & careening
through the muted
shadows of a melancholy
sun, I revisit vistas
of ventures into the river
of remembrance
where love will hopefully
find me again
living on limbs of the poet tree
reflecting its roots
even in its leaves’ absence

…&
though
mama
always said
not to look into
the eyes of the sun, I can’t help

but
stand
staring
at nuances
of your face contoured
to the shadows of sunshowers

that
fill
your blue
enamelled
bowl of sky molded
by the ray/sings of life aglow
commingled with the summer breeze blowing over me.

Pt. 18 — Autumn Leaves (& impossible dreams)

“The fall of a leaf is a whisper to the living.”
–Russian Proverb

As
I
dwell in
the realm of
possibility,
inhaling dreams that my heart sings–
sweet airs of prayers
pulling back
the net
of
fall

bred
by
golden
spring sunbeams that bathe
in a stream burgundy like wine
after indian summer, reverb whispered wails

of
lives
that sing,
sing, sing! though
muted by h i s t o r y

on
this
journey
since freedom
liberating words
chosen by our silences,
because “freedom of speech is freedom or death.” & if

we
must
perish
let it be
by the sword of our
own tongues. this is our time to shine
like sons & daughters of the light, rather than hide or
wane beneath a veil of silence

dwindling
Like autumn leaves…

“the impossible
is the least”
we can
hope
for.

Coda

Dream…

&
dream
again.
dream like rain
till sun reappears
to disclose the secrets of tomorrow.

©2014-2020 MDSHall, in collaboration with the Poet Tree of Discoursing Drums beating By Any Dreams Necessary.

Haikooley High Harmony: Life, The Duality of Love Versus Lust & The Sunshine After The Rain

“It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday…”

Life:

1.
We Who Are Like God

I remember his
Hands, a palm reader’s garden
With roots tracing back

To the beginning
Of the heavens and Earth, grown
Deep as Atlantis

As though he’d been here
Before, planting seeds of our
Divine DNA.

2.
Scars on the Heart

To wield its weapons
Has been the way of the world
Which now wears its wounds

As it walks through corridors
Of a hemophiliac

History, with scars
Of our malice still marring
The heart of Mother Earth.

3.
Can Words Be Weapons?

Iconoclasts of
Baffled creeds feed on arcane
Seeds of mystery

Like culture vultures
In a dance cadaverous
Of life beyond death

Who cursed for cowards
Are ‘fraid to be convicted
Of their convictions.

Never let your thoughts
Be bought…knowledge is power
In the war of words.

4.
Evidence of Things Not Seen

Proof of things unseen–
Faith ain’t no fairytale, but
More the avenue

To where life sheds→love
sheds→light on the fact that what’s
Meant to be will be.
____

Love vs. Lust:

5.
For Suite Luv

By faith not by sight
I walk in grace, baptized by
The fire in her eyes.

6.
untitled

With a cunning tongue
As I kneel at her altar
She is communion.

7.
The Art of Love (& its carnal confections)

Let’s neck & nibble
In the temple of our flesh
& minds intertwined
With words savored by our tongues
For love is the last supper.

8.
Dorothy Dandridge Dreams

Redbone to the bone
With dark chocolate eyes, creamy
Butter pecan thighs,

Lips of caramel
& brown skin that glows as though
Dipped in honey, she

Is my sundae
Of sunday dreams, my own black
& tan fantasy.

9.
Domino Effect

More than mood for thought
Condemned to a road of faults
To arrive at truth
Love is like a domino
Always falling fore we know.

10.
Mystique of a Panther

Amidst the lure of
Her feral eyes, she buries
Me in mystery.

11.
Lion Queen

Lioness, with your
Mane of auburn flames, Sol of
My soul burns for you
Crystallized in piscean
Dreams of sunship horizons.

12.
Full Moon

Fine as frog hair down
To her marrow, she’s lush as
A full moon in bloom.

13.
Like Kerouac Said

I love pink tacos
With strawberries & whipped cream.
Some call me dirty
Old man. I say, “fuck is a
Dirty word, but comes out clean.”
____

The Sunshine After The Rain:

14.
Light of the World

Visions of sunsets
Forge infernos upon skies
Diaphanously

Dancing heliocentric
Circles around the capstone

Of the cosmos, till
The light of the world is cast
In shadows of souls.

15.
New Moon Blues

The sky is crying
Down upon the midnight lamp
Of my beating heart
Flooding the gates with new moons
Riding carpets of bright rain.

16.
The Word of Bird

for Charlie Parker

as he flew, Bird blew
Trying to play clean, looking
For the pretty notes.

In the voice of the
Coolest breeze, the Apostle
Of Hipness hovers

Like a satellite
In orbit of mother earth
& the universe.

17.
Changing of the Guard

For Amiri Baraka [who passed January 9, 2014]

The ripples of time
& space transbluesent like jazz
Interplay like night

& day, where novas
Explode amidst shadows in
Brilliant bursts of life

That open the doors
To the oneness of two eyes
Observing the light

Refracted by streams
Of consciousness curated
In the margins of

Our minds, left behind
As footnotes to changing times
For us to study.

18.
Blood of a Metaphor

As words flow through me
I don’t know where I might be
Without poetry.

19.
At The Heart Of Art

What is art but that
Which hands of men & women
Mold from the thunder
Of hearts so as to wake souls
Following in their shadows.

20.
Curators of the Lost Art

for Amiri Baraka & Albert Einstein

We are curators
Of the lost art of thought, forced
Into existence
By revelations of mind
& the imagination.
____

©2014 MDSHall