Ishmael Reed Publishing Company ©1998
Managing Editor: Tennessee Reed
Business Manager: Carla Blank
Site Design: Marlyse Hansemann
Ishmael Reed Publishing Company ©1998
Managing Editor: Tennessee Reed
Business Manager: Carla Blank
Site Design: Marlyse Hansemann
Alex Espinoza
Poetry CP
Ms. Goulding
3rd Period
Regal Bebop
A tone,
The tone of turbulent tantrums
tapped upon the taciturn keys
the king of bebop arises
his melodic melancholy mix of mirage and miracle
takes the only orator into outstanding obstacles of
octaves and oboes
furiously flaying fire full of flirtatious finesse
---the king of bebop takes his stand
random notes from the band, played throughout the demanding solo
withstanding all but the loudest trumpet roar
tap tap tap, his foot in tune with a metronome
defying all musical theory, fusing like a harmonic ruse
he smiles, the knowing king kindly coercing his kingdom
into a fantastic frenzy of musical musings
Deep in concentration
Sounds of harmony in contemplation
The king of Bebop throws down his funk
Only one known as Thelonious Monk
A river of lively sound
Like a marvelous musical melodic maniac he manages
major and minor chords like swords for the hordes of jazz lords
and their golden records
the waves of New York
vibrating off the walls of a lively café
the innovation inspiring erroneous interpretation
of jazzy beats on dark lonely streets
The king knows space
Open oceans of oblivion
Filled with the sound of silence
He plays paradise on black and white keys
Deep in contemplation
Sounds of harmony in concentration
The king of Bebop throws down his funk
Only one known as Thelonious Monk
The unique style of his
Targets tables of tantalized teenagers
His flow is unmistakably erratic
Never too old or slow or static
His fingers move on automatic
Keeping the café ecstatic
The boom of his voice shakes the streets
Of the cold blue world of sorrow
On which his music plays out to
The ears of the brokenhearted and the newly departed
Take notice of his offbeat measure
As the hammers pang on the strings which play out their soul
The King executes his enchanting symphony
Entangling emotions enabling enthusiastic epithets
The golden brown ladies stop and take a bow
Beads of sweat surface upon the kings brow
His melody comes to a climactic end
The last of his musical machination, begins to descend
He plays the last key with a terrific thunk
The entire audience stands dazed as if drunk
Realizing, there’s only one known as
Thelonious Monk