Pure Golden

~ jabberwocky fantasy bendin’ the bonds of time ~

James Dean, NYC, 1955 photo by: Dennis Stock

 

Me and the crew
was poundin’ it true
jazzin’
on a skin tight
be-bop night

man we was cookin’
maxed
in the zone
rhythm flushed
n’ flamin’ righteous

I was on my chops
riffs’a’bongo’d
goin’longo’d
pulse never stops

whap
bap
slap’n clap
rapity rapity
tapity snap

my fingers
was truly smokin’
urgently strokin’
caressin’ the key-taut hide

like a velvet touch
on the round bare flesh
of a fine-ass’d dame
hot’n fresh
we was all aflame
finely sussed
and fully percuss’d

uptown dudes
beatin’ it get-down
randy’n’rude
steamin’n’stewed

yeah
we laid it way down
plump’n’roun’
some bitchin’
damned cool bottom

this big joint
was thumpin’ thunder
rollin’ under
bles-sed wonder

the scene was more’n jake
a rhythm quake
we was jammin’smooov
shaken’a’grooov

our stick man caps
rocked his traps
like thunder claps
with a beat tight
as a steel trap
while big roy
rolled the ivories

we kicked our tunes
tore up the house
lo-ridin’ the night
was true far out

skirts’a flirt’n
legs was freak
stone fox sleek

we all were stoked
prime’d and smoke’d
so to my pad
ta’ave what we had

but first
chateau blanc
like blissed lo-riders
to down some slyders
sweet 3:00 am
belly bombs
lo-life filet mignons

then single malt
to wash it down
side’n with kingers
the skirts sippin’ slingers
all dis a mellow mood

then down the rabbit hole
full blow’d away
to clutch’n’such
nod’n’sway
n’wrap this beautiful night
pure golden

*
rob kistner © 2022
rob kistner © redux 2023

Poetry 2023 at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry 2022 at: The Sunday Muse

Poetry at: earthweal

Poetry at: dVerse

 

60 thoughts on “Pure Golden”

    1. Thank you Sunita.. I envisioned the writing from the standpoint of percussion, and memories of my life as a singer and lyricist for a 60’s/70’s band. I may write a piece to interpret the meanings of the many terms — or maybe not?

      Reply

  4. You channeled the rightburn of night played cool and well — takes me back to those rockin nights in the 80s when we’d head out after practice still pounding with the beat. Addictive shit and you never forget it. I dream of playing in bands the way I dream of smoking which I quit 40 years ago.

    Reply

    1. I appreciate that it touched you with a warm exciting memory Brendan. At 75, I still sing several times a day, usually short periods. I will never get the stage, nor writing lyrics, out of my blood. They both just burn there now incandescent worlds from another time and space. those brilliant memories, and my art and writing are what keep me grounded and somewhat sane.

      Reply

  14. OMG, A Jazz & Beat saga, rife with the roots of both, sleek black fastback coupes with search lights on both sides, the weed fumes thick and sweet, bodices plunging, breasts shaking, butts bouncing, bap-bap the traps, fingering the behemoth bass, and squeals of glee. Oh, the clarity conjured by your masterwork.

    Reply

  18. Superb rhythm…I really felt that jazz…seemed like the tune was jaming away as I read…nit sure about single malt after white wine though!

    Reply

  19. Love your rhythm and rhyme Rob, and your vocab: ‘riffs’a’bongo’d
    goin’longo’d’ – fabulous!

    Reply

  22. Rob you had me tapping my foot and calling it out. Oh hell yes! I love the way you describe:
    “but first
    chateau blanc
    like blissed lo-riders
    to down some slyders
    sweet 3:00 am
    belly bombs
    lo-life filet mignons”

    Reply

    1. Glad this grabbed you Lisa! Nothing like White Castle, the AluminumRoom, at 3:00 AM. Those greasy little, fried onion square sliders, when you’re “floatin”, are like gourmet delicacies! All those years playin’ music, I know I’ve eaten several thousand — 6 at a time. Sobered you up better than coffee. 😉

      Reply

  26. Been there, done that, sort of. Nobody goes home, we were all sleeping about three, various places in the house, same house always. And the record player played “Night train” over and over until mornings.
    I have lived must be a hundred lives, this was one. Not low riders for us, my 1952 Ford Tudor souped up would out run any ’55 or ’56 Chevy or Olds in the capital city of Lincoln, Nebraska.
    I had three slyders at my granddaughter’s family baby shower this afternoon. It should be a girl in early March, they’d been married nine years, we were all there. There, my ex of 54 years was there, we talked briefly, then I was rescued. Like your party here, lots of emotions and bunching ‘there’, 41 were present for about three hours and plus.
    I’ll read your second write later. This is a side-of-the-bed read and I am ready sleep now, church in the morning at 8:30.
    Bye,
    ..

    Reply

  27. Oh yes, I enjoyed my reading here, immensely. Another world, brought memories. BTW, Mrs. Jim and I discussed yesterday morning the use of “Me and xxx did …” I use it also sometimes to set my surounding.
    ..

    Reply

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