Messengers
freaky&inmaculate as angels unwinged though as they roll So loosen'd up! O boy! O girl! You dont' need a plane to fly or stuff to get high Poets & jazz don't sell much They run their stuff in the outskirst of the brain Sometimes they may Complain Can't hardly make a living! No recognition! We art tossed to the margins! Of printed society Hush! (Fowler's way) You don't even need The fifteen minute Warhol Never mind You're evergreen Flowers wither Clouds pass by Blue, blue sky But messengers Pass by withouth passing by ¿Why is it so? Don't know But it is so A little sugar Once in a while Is welcomed though "Thank you very much for your very wonderful applause. We want to remind you once again applause is the food for entertainment, the more and harder you applaud the harder the artist will work for you. So we want you to get together and make the guys blow their damned brains off." Art Blake introducing a jam with the Jazz Messengers Dont get me wrong Maybe you'll find them moody (Sometimes, not always) It's just's that they get a hard time jazzing the blues versing the poems they know it's not easy to fight back with notes to fight back with words blooming them out of thin air (That's where they come from) T.S.Eliot figured all this out Sure "Trying to use words, and every attempt Is a wholy new start, and a different kind of failure Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate, With shabby equipment always deteriorating In the general mess of imprecision of feeling, Undisciplined squads of emotion." Note: T.S.Eliot's verses concerning poetry apply also to jazz and that all Ave Ceasar Those who are about to jazz Those who are about to poem Salute thee! Yet we don't perform At the Colliseum It's too crowded Too noisy You see Divine Emperor We are all Romans That is true But due to a curious spacetime wrinkle We really are Renaissance craftmen We are "da camara" guys We are not legionaires Not an elite "We are shabby equipped" Sorry, oh Divine Ceasar You missed Eliot And the Stratford-on-Avon Guy & Miles replying with a shrug: So What? O noble Augustus We're another kind A one, two, three, yeah (Why bother a four count) Now and again: We built bubble worlds Out of thin air You don't have a place for us Okay, we understand No grudges We are pagans We live in the outskirts Of mind Freaky & funky But mark our words We are really civilized Unharmful. Unblessed We do not have a general theory Concerning the human condition Or a general solution To everything that troubles The entire Cosmos We apologize, deeply regret it We love salad & steak As everyone else We have bumpy days Blue skies, crescent moon We know something about Elementary maths To pay our bills (Assuming we can) And that is all Yet, in a mellow tone Softly, quietly We do speak We do jazz Kinda thinking (Not so often, Rodin fooled people) Sometimes mumbling But we do our job "The rest is not our bussiness" "I see no reason why you can't just go on blowing, riffing, for ...oh, say, a thousand lines. Well, what the Hell, I understand Homer's Odyssey has twelve thousand lines....Gene Fowler sayz We are sort of Start-up guys We give the first impulse To the cosmic dionisiac wheel The rest is your business. Mr.President of anywhere. Mr. Secretary General of the U.N. Folks. We are deeply sorry, to reject your so kind invitation to join your Staff. It is not we are unconcerned.We support all of your efforts. You are doing the best. But there is little we can contribute to your agenda. Our ignorance concerning the World's troubles&events is huge. It could fill a complete Encyclopedia. It is just that we are too busy tackling, rock, rolling, fighting, making shifts, babling, pushing words and notes to the edge, pushing the frontiers. And as you know edges&frontiers are tricky, once you get close to one of them, they move away, as the statues of Daedalus. Yours sincerely, "The Baccus community of the uncool, unwashed, unblessed" We work our thing anytime, anyhour, anyday we don't have a schedule a time table a calendar We are the undisciplined disciplined ones Sometimes We get together Full bunch ride Many a time Alone Round about Anytime It's just we are bewitched by rythm&sonority. We are in love with the vowels and b flat's Phonemes, o so fizzy Chords o so funny Tunes o so mellow&sweet (Ye thought line would end "fine") We are astute guys Experts In the Art of Surprise We love, o how much, to shapen things up Insideout&Outsidein&DoubleBind Schizodoing. Schizoeverything. Schizonothing ¿Weird, huh? Go ask Wittgenstein Watzlavick et al. Sometimes you may find a typo or a dissonance No worry If not meant on purpose It helps things up Eszra and Coltrane Billy and Walt had their downsides too Or didn't they That's why they are What they are Full honey&milk jacket That's our secret We made upsides with our own downsides That's why We love downfalls And sometimes We are 'Kinda Blue' (Not entirely) We get the most of it We suck the juice 'till the last drop "Oh desolation, desolation how much I owe you" Jack Kerouac: "The Dharma Bums" Yet we are cheerful people when we focus When we roll our poem or jam stroll We get chatty We get friendly We look shinny It's hard to bear with us I know We seriously Read Richard V It's our Bible Our Sutra The Holy Holiness Of our job Once more unto the breach my friends, once more That´s the truth of our buzzness Once and once and more and more unto the breach: The wall: The mysterious Hum of language & notes So we keep Once and again Until the end Unto the breach That's why we don't Join armies We have our own war We've being Fighting for millenia With notes&phonemes Trying to bring forth Some sort of cosmos out of what is chaos Oh God! Houston, we have a problem It's not easy To find the corridor That will lead us Back to earth Safe & Healthy Ain't easy When one flies that high So we appreciate All support We risk a burn-out Some did Bird was a meteor Jack "The Kerouac" Also In his own way We have to bear with Dionysius Let me remind you Once and again "The general mess of imprecision of feeling, Undisciplined squads of emotion." Sometimes it's kinda hard So we need Apollo, Medicine Man To frame us up Or the Shaman They never let us down That's why we look So collected Everyday unnoticed Citizens Nice guys when we have a break Although Some prefer Weird clothing Most of us Are white collars Joyce worked on a bank Can you imagine The one who Turned The Big Wheel of Get Wild With elementary particles Of Sacred Meaning The Puzzle of Puzzle's ¿What do you mean? If he had not been a writer He would have be The fellow-mate of Bach Polyphonic Dr. Jacques Lacan gave to beginners in the meaning issue the following advice: "Practice crosswords" Crosswords lead to Crossroads When you are building a poem When you are improvising ' blowing Left side, right side, keep going The road is full of signs Unfortunately, o yes We have to choose from a myriad of possibilities But the juice of it Is what we left behind Not know, Someday, somehow Will bring it up You see We work with the background Of our brain We trust it What remains And left behind Is the rest That is why We are so inspired We keep trucking Maybe a short holiday Not as long as Verlaine's For Christ's sake We couldn't bear with it Trust us We will be back Once and again You are not alone We are your pillow Your confidents As you read or listen Our words and jams You will know who You are It's worth the shot by Carlos Fleitas |