Free as the Bird

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Free Verse Poetry
In the reverie of Birdland clubs everywhere, there will always be the echo of certain jazz moments unlike any other; those memories of unique musical freedom that stays with us. Charlie Parker, one of the true definitions of jazz. (Image by Leonid Afremov)

Submitted: January 30, 2019

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Submitted: January 30, 2019

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Free as the Bird

In the Village serenity of night,
Charlie is on his platform,
his perch,
like a blue heron
caressing his offspring with loving sound.

Standing next to the piano,
he awaits his ibis,
the black cypher at its bench,
his wing-man of song.

Charlie Parker,
Bird of trill,
Nature's "Willow Weep for Me,"
the you/me of everyone
worries not if his flights
still soar long after
the day he passed over.

Did he live something
we can't?

People,
persons,
consciousness wander Manhattan streets,
metro avenues around the globe,
famished of substance,
be it music,
or just simple quiet rhythms
of inner voice solitude.

Unique it was,

this Bird kind of freedom,
infectious to some,
invisible to others.

Many will always hear
Charlie's art as a forever compass
offering connection to tomorrows' discovery,
unattached to today's passing trend.

One only has to listen...

There's a melancholy reed lathering up,
about to riff another memory
where yesterday's tomorrow will always be
for those free as the Bird.

 


© Copyright 2019 Odin Roark. All rights reserved.

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