Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the sax player was high on junk
the heavens were crashing down
the streets were melting into patterns
all the city lights were higher then a kite
the pyramid was levitating in the contrast
like a newspaper headline that spoke jibberish
to the floating bodies along the concrete path
through the pink neon arcades of maze like wonder
just like the nights to fall away like confetti of times
as the sax player played his junk to the moon
the ice caps sunk into the sea of hypnotic signals
cats were prowling the mood mellow undergrounds
the lunatic fringe jackets were rocking the drunken boats
waiting for a moribund moment to make its move on
into the cascading static waterfalls of jazz notes lingering
the crashing heavens were coming down from the high holy
the seething swamp gas idols of hallucinating philosophies
wandered the lost museums of memory in the flying carpet district
far out funeral rites congregated in the alien alleys of the adepts
as the sax blows through the chanted names of the passing souls

Coltrane, Yardbird, Pres...Excellent poem

Very saxy!

I use to jam on a saxophone with my musician friend
when I first moved to Santa Cruz, I always had that jazz
in my soul, then I met my crazy surfer poet mentor
and I began my life as a word artist. I met and talked
to prolly the two best jazz poets, besides maybe LeRoi Jones
Bobby Kaufman and Ted Jones. Ted Jones did a recital in
the beatnik fifties called "Jazz is my Religion" it's still on YouTube.

saxy is my middle name...

One of my favorite Robin Williams movie is his first, "Moscow on the Hudson" in which he plays a Russian sax player from a circus trying to defect to America. Great flick. Great music.

The sax is the sexiest sounding horn on the planet or the loneliest. Moody, for sure. Loved the poem.

68degrees