December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

BLACK COFFEE by Ella Fitzgerald.

I’m feeling mighty lonesome, haven’t slept a wink, I walk the floor and watch the door and in between I drink black coffee.
Loves a hand-me-down broom. I’ll never know a Sunday in this week-day room I’m talkin’ to the shadows, one o’clock to four. And lord, how slow the moments go when all I do is pour black coffee.
Since the blues caught my eye. I’m hangin’ out on Monday my Sunday dreams to dry.

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

String-chewing bass players, Plucking rolled balls of sound From the jazz scented night Feeding hungry beat seekers Finger shaped heartbeats, Driving ivory nails Into their greedy eyes. Smoke crystals, from the nostrils Of released jazz demons, Crash from... MINGUS by Bob Kaufman.
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