ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing»
  • Poems & Poetry

. . .I'm a Jazz Commuter

Updated on September 16, 2016
kenneth avery profile image

Kenneth has been a member of HubPages for five years. He is retired from a 23-year career in the weekly newspaper business.

Source

Faded faces of Beatniks past

Muted musician
Muted musician | Source
Cool, laid back, jazz on demand
Cool, laid back, jazz on demand | Source
We hid in black
We hid in black | Source
 Lenny Bruce
Lenny Bruce | Source
We were in and now we are out
We were in and now we are out | Source
Staring in space
Staring in space | Source

Yeah, man. I slip. I slide. Snippity snap
I'm a Jazz Commuter piddily pap!
Singing my song on treadmill slow
Black gorillas, tyrants running on bloody snow.

Yeah, I dig myself. I dip. I dig.
I'm a Jazz Commuter gotta feel my grip.
Smoking, choking establishment's fence
No, man. Sliding, slacking. No money. So tense.

Yeah, dig it, man. I think. I rap. I move
I'm a Jazz Commuter not feeling your groove.
Coffee cup I have to gulp clippity slippity
Shang-a-lee, we are free my bongos ring.

Goatee, shades and man, I'm in. Really in
Clicking, snapping, dancing and gazing at friends.
Clouds, man. Clouds of blood on our two hands
Waiting on war. Not near or far, man, we're the band.

Doubably do and man, see what's in you.
Sneakity, slat. Yeah, man, I'm where it's at.
I'm a Jazz Commuter sweating in suits of wool
Cool, man, cool. Not making myself one pure rule.

I'm a Jazz Commuter, winkity, wink
Listen, man, closely, man, to what I think.
Sip, slip and pat table top to death
Reciting my poems to chicks Carla, Dove, and Beth.

Notes of soul, oh, soul, man oh man how it flies
I'm a Jazz Commuter ahold of briefcase ties.
Bats of eyes and men of coal
Killing us out, man, dig it, Big Brother's big goal.

Black sweatshirt and pants, man, lookity, look
I quote McQuen, man, the tears hits the book.
I'm just a Jazz Commuter, slowing, feeling it, dude
Running backward, stumbly stump
Landlord's a drag man, uptight, the angry grump.

Hey, man dressed in establishment suit
I'm a Jazz Commuter, that's not my bag or serpent's loot.
Mind expansion's our dark friend outside
Man, "we" are all fading, man, I hate my insides.

Lenny's rants, man, do ya' dig 'im?
I'm a Jazz Commuter, strings-a hang up dim.
Padding Frisco taking a trip
Dig the cash, man, but not jumping his flip.

I'm a fading Jazz Commuter, walking away
Sleeping, man, sleeping and wasting, I said wasted today.
The music's gone, coffee's left too,
Man, it's dark, dingy and I'm high on you.

I'm a Jazz Commuter, man, I lost another job
Materialism, man. I hate it and how it robs.
Clothing, dude. Man, can you feel it?
I'm a Jazz Commuter today you have it
Tomorrow we lose it.

Source

© 2016 Kenneth Avery

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • kenneth avery profile image
      Author

      Kenneth Avery 12 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Gypsy Rose Lee,

      "Sweetheart, you are so kind to me. I thank you for your special friendship and following and yes, your warm comments."

      "I am taking off a month to rest, re-tool and take care of a new side projects that I have going, but God willing, I will see you on Oct. 27."

      "Love You Lots," Kenneth

    • Gypsy Rose Lee profile image

      Gypsy Rose Lee 12 months ago from Riga, Latvia

      Never can forget to keep in touch Kenneth. Hope you're having an inspirational and great week.

    • kenneth avery profile image
      Author

      Kenneth Avery 12 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama

      Gypsy Rose Lee,

      I am so grateful to have you in my life as well as in my Followers List. Your comments are so warm and tender that I can feel your tone inside your words and phrases. I am totally serious.

      The Jazz Age. Wow. That was "the" time in our lives that we could relax and be ourselves unafraid of intruding on someone's property or space.

      Thank you, DEAR Friend for your sweet comment.

      Please do not forget me. Write me anytime. "Please?"

    • Gypsy Rose Lee profile image

      Gypsy Rose Lee 13 months ago from Riga, Latvia

      Loved this. Made hear the music of all those jazz trumpets blaring. Louis and his gravely voice nice to think about the Jazz Age. I remember when the jazz clubs in NYC were still the rage and I had one friend who was bound and determined to see them all.