"Green is the color you feel when you are relaxing," I tell you

"Really?" You ask.

"Yes, have you felt it before?" I ask.

"Oh yes, all the time," 

"Blue is the color of happiness," I tell you.

"Realy?" You ask. 

"Yes, have you felt it before?" I ask.

"Oh yes, all the time,"

"Black is the color of anger," I tell you.

"Really?" You ask.

"Yes, have you felt it before?" I ask.

"Oh yes, all the time,"

"Orange is the color of confusion," I tell you.

"Really?' You ask.

"Yes, have you ever felt it?" I ask.

"Oh yes, all the time,"

"Red is the color of love," I tell you

"Really?" You ask.

"Yes, have you ever felt it?" I ask.

"Oh yes, all the time," 

"Grey is the color of loneliness," I tell you.

"Really?" You ask.

"Yes, have you ever felt it?" I ask you.

"Yes, ALL THE TIME,"

for the longest time

I wasn't good.

I was lost in a haze,

no one understood.

I know I sound angsty

I know I sound sad

But sit down and listen

This isn't about about my past.

Have you seen me recently?

The way that I look?

Have you seen me daily?

I'm an open book.

My eyes shine like oceans

My cheeks are blushed pink

Is it because you're gone?

That's what I think.

You are not here for me

Maybe you never were

But I feel much better now

100%

Yes I'm sure.

Please stay away.

Please don't turn back,

Without you I feel Yellow now,

Instead of only black.

Jazz.

12 notes.

Mebbe a dozen.

Shapes. Strains. Stresses. Chains.

Baa-daa, taa-taa-taa, bop, dee-bop. Sssssssss ...

Stop.

Birthed from oppression—suppression.

(Racism. Whites only. Segregation.)

Notes.

Smooth refrains from horns; zippy skiffs from drums.

Bass strings lovingly tapped by dancing blistered fingers.

Ridiculous sticks—slick & meticulous.

1959.

Miles & miles. “Kind of Blue.”

Dave Brubeck, “Time Out”; Charles Mingus, “Mingus Ah Um.”

Ornette Coleman, “The Shape of Jazz to Come.”

Jazz.

12 notes.

Mebbe more.

Super-cool players who knew the score.