BRUISING WITH JIVE

The notes had feet
Running me down
With slaps to my
Face
Speaking hard
Of the pain
Forged in rooms
With smoke and ice.

The beat jumped me
Like thieves
Intent on harm
Bruising with jive
A blues fat
With thick
And jazz painted
Black.

Run songs
Fast with
Lust and catch
Them all,
Shaking the sound
Into their ears
Like pepper
Burning up
With hot.

THIEVING BRUSHES

The drummer
Avoided the calm
And consumed the
Risk,
Stirring the air
With a
Rustling sound.

His sliding, sneaking
Thieving brushes
Breathed
Life into her
Voice,
Forging solid
The gold of jazz.

She captures
All creatures
With ears,
Exposing their
Needs and wants
As they
Crash like
Waves
Settling on her
Shoreline.

SNAZZY PAWS

I hear the mice
In your fingers
Scrape with a tap
On the tail of strings
With push and pull
Plucking the jazz.

Your shades hide
The working cool
As you reach
With digging
To the bottom
Of your thirsty soul
Sharing the water
To crowds dripping
Hot.

Busy crazy cats
Living in your hands
Got the travel in them
Snazzy paws
Mixing fast air
Up and down
Until full
On the fat
While spreading
The sweet.

I AM THE JAZZ

I got songs
And words
Jumping in
My head….

Jumping with dance,
Jumping with thirst
To get loose
And spill onto
The page….

Like water
Flipping from waves,
Eyeing the beach,
Praying to get
There.

Yea I got the
Jive alive
In me
Cause I am the
Jazz.