Musicalirious

”The only truth is music.”Jack Kerouac


~ inspired by the images – envisioned in a jazz scatt vocal style ~

 

Oh spirits
of the toned wood
and taut tuned twine
come to me

be with me
play for me
talk to me
knock me out

whisper
in a resonant breath
about the chordal’d structure
of harmonic truth

tell me about
the wirebirds
of violaville
in the tenth world

taunt me
in a flurry
of rhythmic dissonance

of sizzling
scalded jazz

free me from this tiny
box of lies

lift this veil
from off my eyes

deliver me from this
life in a bottle

let me throw wide my heart
to release my soul

tell me how
to get to dreamland

to cotton avenue
on a hot off-night
back-street in jericho

rise from your knees
reveal your mysteries

tell me of the fires
on paprika plains
that consumed your souls
a’top lustful fretboard pyres
in tempos of immortality

that made you dance
at midnight
wrapped in
the silky veils of ardor
on prurient
smoldered embers

see — I remember

I want to go
I am ready

an inferno burns
inside me

desire rages strong
to rise in musicality
ride’n the bliss of rhythm
fervor’d in song
spotlessly syncopated

totally musicalirious

father downbeat
bang the drum
I am your snaredrum son

your lifeblood
courses through me
hammers in my temples
sets my soul ablaze

impassioned
I will prowl
the shadow’d haunts
of beal street
searching hard
for a secret lover

alight me lyrical
perched talon to key
on a moonlit eighty eight

aflame
with the creole spices
of the quartier français

following your ghosts
in second line lockstep
down bourbon sidewalks
in a gumbo’d swing

let me be loosed
in the beautiful
ethereal world
of love and music
inhabited by Aurora
if I can truly deserve
an earthly angel’s presence

all while seeking
don jaun’s reckless daughter

my scarlet jezebel
my nocturne angel
my torchsong diva

to take me
in a 3-4 fever

at sunset
strip
me down
to the bleeding beat

or whirl me ‘round
to burn me down
to nashvillian dobro’d ash

charted forever
in the wild ivory winds
and rimshot rains
of reverberant recall

come

take me now
back to those precious
percussive peaks
of taut rockin’ riffdom
dangerclad
and streetsmart

carnal dark seraph
I’m eager ’n itchin’

come to me

*
rob kistner © 2023

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

More poetry at: dVerse

OLN poetry at: dVerse