String
I found a string this morning
Amidst the leaves
Near a bench
The air had that morning scent
A scent of autumn
A scent of stars
I walked to pick it up
Crunching leaves with every step
My scarf secures me with warmth
I squeeze the string
Longing to find you on the other end
Hear that rhythm
Jazz
I want to hear that rhythm.
I want to soak up jazz,
that, boom, boom, beat.
Licks fade but never sleep.
…
The language of jazz
is willing within.
Can’t be translated,
such a sensational sin.
You taste the feel.
You tap your glass.
You say “oh yeah”.
Hit the rim of your hat,
when they swing B flat.
…
Coffee compliments the feel.
Bourbon aids to heighten your zeal.
Love spins your head to the grooves
A perfect partner for your blues.
…
Live jazz is where it’s at,
discover your joint and call it a wrap.
That place is an intellectual key.
Your rhythmic finish is a footnote in G.
…
Find a stick and start the beat.
Read a poem to create some heat.
Snap your fingers for the fusion.
Life at its finest a musical illusion .
…
Thoughts.
They say men think about sex 3 or 4 times an hour.
So when I’m at the bar with three friends.
We have three beers in three hours
That means together we had 48 sexual thoughts.
But sex only came up in conversation 21 times.
What a waste of thoughts.
Action
There will be a time when all will end
That’s far away, how bout your friend?
Care for him do what you can
Aids is his companion
Now is the instance
what will you do
Will you touch?
Do you
Know
The Grill
I’m grilling tonight, the essence, so sweet.
Gently blowing the scent to my neighbors.
I wonder if she smells those puffs of dragon air.
I wonder if she cares.
Sometimes my other neighbors grill.
I smell the aroma in the air.
Instantly hungry, almost like a bear.
Tonight I wonder why none of us share.
Thoughts.
They say men think about sex 3 or 4 times an hour.
So when I’m at the bar with three friends.
We each have a few beers in 3 hours.
That means together we had 48 sexual thoughts.
But sex only came up in conversation 21 times.
What a waste of thought.
Pieter's Poetry and Images 