Today’s poem is by my good friend Angela Jackson-Brown, who was a colleague of mine when I was at Troy (State). She is now living in Louisville.
where the music at
by Angela Jackson-Brown
hey ma – why you all the time sounding so angry
don’t you have some rhymes about
when a man fingered you up
getting you all saxed up
making you cry out jazz notes
to the tune of the yardbird
scratch, scratch, scratching your blues away
i swear to god, one man treat you bad and you
can’t hear the music no more
one man treat you bad and
you give him the power to play the rhythm
clean out of your soul
you need to ride the trane, girl,
and let some miles get between you
and him or whoever took your music away
you need to let them evil thoughts
spin up out of your mind
and get you dizzy over gillespie
so you can bebop your way back home again
you need to let your mind
be free so you can hear
rashied ali thumping
your drums, ma
bump twa, bump twa, bump twa
how you gonna let the rhythm reverberate
through your hips again
if you don’t let that earthy beat
call your name
put on some hendrix
and let some disharmonies
roll you back into a thelonious mood
come on, baby
write something with a hook
but with no words
scat yourself back into a happy mood
doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah
rhyme us something, just you and me,
that’s gonna make us both feel good tonight
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