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Nick's thoughts
Inspiration in 8th Period Jazz
Cut her tongue from her throat,
And she'll still speak with clarity
Because her presence alone
Can be a million word therapy.
You may be at home.
You may be out in the city.
But regardless of where you go,
Her skin will be just as fair, her eyes just as pretty
What is realer than real?
And cooler than cool?
She can make you feel what she feels
And your parents feel it too.
Her motions are smooth,
Baseline's her heartbeat.
Improv is her tool.
No shoes on her her feet
But who needs shoes when you fly like a bird?
And freedom's all you hear, all you've ever heard.
Her name? Her name is the Blues,
Ragtime and Jazz
The birth of the American . . . Cool
And the Rock 'n Roll fad
With roots in New Orleans,
And Branson Missouri
It all sings for joy,
Ain't nothin about misery
Because a flutter on the piano
Makes my heart flutter too.
The singin horns, trumpets and trombones
Have the drums to make it move.
A gliss on the sax
Will kiss a shiver into my back
Her beauty keeps me content,
And I am truly relaxed.
Thanks Miles. Thanks Satchmo.
I really appreciate that.
Nick Woodburn
From the author:
This poem was written for the Groveport Jazz Ensemble for introducing me to the love and beauty of true music, and those
who keep it alive.
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