Posts Tagged ‘jazz’

“Elastic Aspects” Reshaped

April 2, 2012


Equality of
surface, soul of surface; the
raw eye assembles

a focus, a 10-
dimensional forest of
materials. The

gradual rainy
surface becomes a flowchart—
which is the voice of

explosiveness, which
is substituting for an
aspect of silence.

[The 13 song titles of Matthew Shipp’s “Elastic Aspects” via Japanese, Yahoo Babel Fish translator]

The Circle With a Hole in the Middle

September 21, 2011

America is
a crisis of now, empty
fiction of shadow

dreams, museum of
broken forms. Tomorrow is

X—science and art,
the virgin twins, foxholed in
golden skies of love.

America is
a caravan of crazy,
a century of

something else, something
in the shape of a question,
but not our question,

something in the shape
of change, friends, but not our change,
a thing whose grammar

is not human, whose
tone is the tenor of time
as a thing that keeps

a record of things,
things to come. A design call
for the body, the

head, a prime design
for time, for women, for Man,
for the hidden three . . .

For the rare music
of improvisers, meta-
language of free sound

in a suite dancing
naked in the hall with all
the neighbors, colors

dialing feelings,
an evening song opening
the town like beauty.

[assemblage composed of words from Ornette Coleman LP titles]

John Coltrane

July 14, 2011


Vedic rites. Vedic
rites and ceremonies taught
by the mother of

Abdul Kalam. All
this, and I provided the
soul of his father.

Medicine and food.
Plants, hymns, butter: Slaughter and
fire, I suggest. His

father was a boss
in the world—operations,

the world in the will,
the world awarded with will.
I clear all. I hum.

[The recitation from John Coltrane’s “Om,” Chapter 9, Verse 16 of the Bhagavad Gita, via Hindi-Swahili-Urdu-Gujarati-Chinese (traditional), Google translator]

Duke Ellington

July 6, 2011


Bop is dangerous . . .
It’s like the murder of God
with a blue Bible


A critic is a
man in ruins who wants to
fiddle with your art


The best jazz is an
energy cloud carried on
the tonal supreme


The wise musician
is never satisfied with
what he can master


Everybody’s Mouth’s a Book of Revelation

March 26, 2011

Eulogy for a
loose crucible of demons.
Blues for the beast whose

sweet slippy snake sap
celebrates midnight in a
suicide tango.

The First Church of the
Bejewelled Devil salutes
the traveler, gold

and silver hands hot
with laughing deliverance:
a bucket of burnt

crickets, wings wrapped in
subtractions of tragedy,
song of the black air.

Holy protocol—
someplace the grief trees flower
like sugar orchids,

and apricots breach
the keyhole, recognition
of the rings of sin.

Noisy widows fall
out of Wednesday right into
Thursday, like cosmic

coconuts that roll
from crazy corners on an
afternoon spotted

with bee knuckles and
a lying monkey. Jick-king
tricks get a royal

pudding and pink enema
cookies, simpleton’s

flush a footwash in
the ammonia baths of

change. Gateway to the
refined trinity of sun,
silence and water—

inside straight trumps the
riddle of the body, goose-
tickled thru a soft

mirror, a dirty
banana dangerously
unwrapped, ever out,

a mandrill’s dance, a
bush bandit from below, gift
of love down your throat

like a pocket Kong,
eyes big with poverty and
blind river lilies.

Shake it like it feels.
Start, stop, pop. Get a piece of
slow release. Do the

mockingbird rag, rock
your baby but don’t drink from
the cremation cup.

Next: Good times playing
on the platinum bed won’t
cover all the facts.

Eat hope and carry
a calm crucifer. Make room
for an untitled

needful theme between.
Fe Fi Fo Fly Flew. Life is
a verb, drivin’ you.

[assemblage composed entirely of words from Henry Threadgill song titles]


The Bop Apocalypse, Foretold in Sun Ra LP Titles

January 26, 2011

The futuristic
future calling for purple
satellite magic.

Outer space pathways
incorporated in rock-
stop tomorrow worlds.

Angels play in the
spaceways to Plutonia
on dream monorails.

Medicine jazz for
the mythic city where noise
of freedom meets night.

Joyful melodies
on the road to Jupiter . . .
Nile moon lullaby.

Song of the second
Earth . . . Nubian cosmos and
Sirius respect.

Strange visions of the
interplanetary ark
in the blue somewhere.

universe cast in antique
media shadows.

Astro demons of
Atlantis united in
celestial nightmare.

Comet war . . . a black
rocket of discipline and
the cage of sunset.

Nuclear Janus . . .
dark equation after the
end of cosmic time.

Visitation of
the creator . . . the delight
of chaos . . . nothing.

Ornette Coleman

September 18, 2010


The saxophone is
beyond democratic . . . It’s
food for the planet


Jazz is the only
music where mistakes are the
right information


Human existence:
the same note played night after
night, differently


artistic expression can
cure mental illness


Record companies
are in the tragic business
of numbers culture


Glorious Satori, Revealed in the Song Titles of Albert Ayler

March 9, 2010

A blood flower tree
toiling in the desert sun —
inborn drudgery.

Holy vibrations
of wizard-saints and angels —
universal bells.

Love cry of spirits!
Ghosts rejoice in healing prayer —
omega truth force.

Message from the heart —
the raising of the divine
island comes at last.

[assemblage composed entirely of words from Albert Ayler song titles]