[Dixielandjazz] Jazz Poetry I have shared before

[Thompson]

Another poem ... perhaps my favorite and one I think of most often.

 Live Jazz

Somewhere in the silent ether,
Orphaned by the ear,
Floats every note was ever played
That we no longer hear.

The iceberg tip of tape and disc
We resurrect at will
Is but one note in millions
Drowned and ever still.

True--the ink the quill and paper
Genius put to use
Still comes alive in concert halls
In reverence--or abuse.

For every Monk or Coltrane chorus
Ever put to tape
Are millions, more profound by far,
That made their sad escape.

But what of every masterpiece
That died while being born,
Through smoke and booze in gin mills
>From piano and from horn?

Those instant creativities,
Confetti-ed in the air--
Lost to all the world, save for the
Few who heard them there.


-- Johnny Frigo



Rebecca Thompson
Flower Mound, Texas