Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

how much is jazz like poetry
at once limited and limitless
the philosophy of which hits a nerve
but like poetry where is a curve
that happens with a space and a time
thrown in being bop, drop drip

but like black sounds and words trip
harmony inside the constant rhythm
that count basic figure takes a flip

the cry the descent, the music is the human
to say is outta sight
out of mind in this bind, a kind of pop brain

to find the meaning and the message
that this jam journey has taken the down
beat and the repeat refrain, the jazz
and the rain of words is the poetry as above

as the world cries as the blue bird flies from
branch to another branch so does the chance
that Miles will blow that deep playful soul
blow them mystery notes to kingdom mum

and the poet king of everything and swing
looking for that freedom ring deep in the ding
when the changes go through them strange is

on that flat hat the healer with crazy words tries
to remain articulate and yet released from definition
like the infinite is some measureless measure dang
golden sounds of a void of words, the ever treasure
of the experiment it began so long ago, they sang

and they got the hang of it, before it got the flung of
them, as the steady zing keeps the remedy revolving
through all them repetitions of the twirling superstitions
that just let it all go marchin in like some funny floats