Jazz on Brown Paper

Yesterday I picked up a new soundtrack album to one of my favorite movies, Finding Forrester. It is mainly a compilation of compositions by Miles Davis and a few other jazz artists. I had never sat down and listened to jazz music just for the sake of listening to it before, and well... its effect on me was quite interesting. I found it to be mysteriously entrancing, and yet it had a familiar groove to it. Well, some words and phrases started coming to mind about it and I wrote a poem about it on a piece of a brown paper bag that holds tortilla chips from Chipotle. Here is the poem:

"Tell Me, Jazz Player"
by Neil Mullins

I see a man with a trumpet
Sitting down to a clarinet and bass
He lets out a long sigh
From whatever mood he's in...
I know he's a Jazz Player. Mmm-hm!

Tell me, o Jazz Player,
Why does your music sound so wise,
Yet foolish at times as well?
And how can you play simultaneously
For Heaven, Earth, and Hell?

Tell me, o Jazz Player,
Why your notes are so blue
When the atmosphere they create is so red?
And how do you let your measures flow
As mere thoughts from your head?

The group finishes their set
And the trumpeter goes away
The bassist sticks around...
I ask him why he do what he do
As the question lingers, I hear him say,

"Cuz' jazz is for everyone, man...
Great and small
Rich and poor
Me and you."