What The Captain Said

They made the fire so they want it to spread
the fire, the fire, the fire
They fan the flame to the forest bed
and the flames grew
higher, and higher, and higher

Remember what the captain said by the oceanside
where we took our ride
'We want no more soldiers dead, so come see us by the fire; '
Prometheus desire, the fire
by the fire, as the flames grow higher

We lay upon our riverbed, upon the Styx
the mosh pit Styx upon the pyre
Eyes wide, quartered dry, heads to the sky
and they watch the flames grow higher, and higher,
the fire

poem by Jay Bradley
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Winter's Song

I was scooting through the blind white streets
A song, the song, whispered in my ears
The song of winter, of joy and fears
Frozen stiff where sanity retreats

The snow blew, as blizzard winds ought to
Abreast my face, chiseling with might
So there I howled at the moon’s delight
Ignoring the child sledding through

My next steps teetered toward minty moors
Though I found a dear, I chased my hart
Through a wicked twisting trail apart
From dear tidings due from you and yours

Here I did learn what it means to roam
Then turned and hummed winter’s song back home

poem by Jay Bradley
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Lonely Angel On Hallow Ground

Little lady laced in the heavenly gown
Caught outside the witching hour
I see your face as a benevolent frown
Lonely angel on hallow ground

Neither friend nor fiend in my apprehension
Who graces this doorway of mine?
Witness I a portal to your dimension
Lonely angel on hallow ground?

All I remember just boyish confusion
Which opens my mind forever
The spirit of your claim transcends delusion
Lonely angel on hallow ground

In your presence an unworthy selection
Such canyon girth before unknown
I err you always past mortal detection
Lonely angel on hallow ground

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poem by Jay Bradley
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The Blues, The Jazz, The City

The city is jazz under neon lights
The jazz is blues stoned
And the city never forgets this
Like the heart never forgets to pulse
And the stars never forget to shine in the night
But it takes jazz to move it, to move it all
So the jazz is the beat that always burns
So the heavens continue to shine on and shine all

The jazz soothes the souls of the children
Though the city is old, the jazz is young
Thus the jazz, fast and heavy, radiates the city
She returns her to her ember glow in night

The city is high on the hill and low in the valley
She is the heart, the blessed nectar, the blossom shower
The jazz glows in prosperous tombs
She serves the crashing wave of the monsoon, to the city's bay, to the ancient harbor, across bold rivers, to lakes nestled in the safety of moors and battlefields, and sings to the forest and soaks the timber and every reborn city is cloaked in the fingertip of jazz
Since jazz destroys and creates, it is the fire, and so the smoke rises higher
Hark the newborn guff of jazz

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poem by Jay Bradley
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