72 Verses, No Chorus an homage to after-hour jams at the black and tans

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by 1Lefty, Aug 26, 2012.

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  1. 1Lefty

    1Lefty Well-Known Member

    This one comes like a freight train
    Some long slow but unstoppable bastard son
    Riding across that cradle of metal and wood
    This train is bound for glory
    Then rolls on through, someplace beyond
    Someplace wild.
    You can feel it come across that split valley,
    Some closing time, you can hear the bass wander
    Then slip into place as brushes hiss against a barren kit
    A cymbal, bass, toms, no snare,
    Then a baritone strolls in to carry a melody,
    And a piano, a moment,
    A moment, a momentum and awe,
    Hours before dawn,
    The verse takes form,
    Like a locomotive
    Rolling out of the mist
    Another verse, another again
    A fit, a flinch,
    Redeemed by a flurry,
    A moment of finesse,
    The briefest fury.
    But this train don't need no driver,
    This train is unstoppable
    But this ride isn't free
    And the bass player grunts the count,
    God save you if you miss it
    Maybe you can lay back,
    If it comes around your way again.
    Another verse
    Like frost melting on creosote ties
    And an ache trembles, then pulses steady
    Through the burnished rail,
    Rails without end
    Cool, then cold, then the horn,
    This train don't stop here
    Another time, another change
    Shit, the same verse
    Again but slower.
    If you don't have the ear,
    You couldn't tell a trainwreck
    From a symphony.
    And when it seems
    Like the music and time and
    The wheels will seize
    Then they inch
    Finally, but undeniably roll
    They're wheels, they can't do
    Anything else but roll
    Confined but gliding
    Onto the rails,
    And eight to the bar.
    Fever and fits and finally
    Finding a key
    The context that makes it all
    Make sense
    Charlie Parker whispers into his horn
    Wild things he never knew he knew
    Short, but not quick
    Then pause like it would never end
    Till the bass and drums find their place to fit in,
    Then the outlaw alto shimmering
    Drumsticks kiss the rim
    And backstage, morphine the ***** waited
    Rolling over these tracks We can take 4/4 to 3/4
    And back, we can turn a sharp
    Into a flat
    This train won't be coming back
  2. Acy

    Acy Mama Bear - TLC, Common Sense Staff Member Safety & Support

    I love this! It's a poetic riff on jazz and its uniqueness! Some fabulous imagery (keeping to your railroad theme, "frost melting on creosote ties") and some nifty alliteration ("Fever and fits and finally / Finding a key").
  3. 1Lefty

    1Lefty Well-Known Member

    Thanks, I had some exceptional editorial help and critique from a friend on the first section, which helped me trim a lot of extra stuff out and focus it better.
  4. MoAnamCara

    MoAnamCara SF Artist

    This is brilliant, thank you for sharing with us. Thats quite a talent.
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