Jazz

[expiring_touch]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

[paxsan]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose [/b]viscous
with defeat.

Hmm finding this one hard to comment on, I like it but not sure why, not quite my thing. The lines in italics (light ceases .... your eye) something there doesnt quite work for me but not sure what or how to sort it sorry.
Viscose looks to be a typo/spelling error to me.
I wish I had some useful comments to make, sorry. Keep on writing, it has some great images in it.

[Brownlie]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

I think you run into some problems with sentence fragments that hinder the flow of information. This seems to make the poem feel very terse and disorganized. I would suggest going over the poem and making sure your independent articles are grammatically sound. There is quite a bit of parenthetical information as well. That being said, I don't know much about Jazz poetry but know there's quite a bit of it around. Hope this helps.

[bbcashdollar]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

My first critique, so I'm not sure how useful it will be. the piece opens up with the statement city quiet as can be. Next line, it's bustling car's telling the reader what you forgot. I want to opportunity to discover what's forgotten in the piece. As first, I read cheek bones as wishing bones, as a sweet allusion, but wishbones are to be broken to get what you want. Further down, doubled over, gasping for breath, blackened eye. It seems there was a fight. The details are intriguing, but, I'm distracted, by the silence, the wind, the quiet city how are they are part of creating this experience? There seems to be a lot there, maybe more than one story.

[ChristopherSea]

I think you need to change that first line to properly set the tone to perhaps, ...mid afternoon the improvisation commences... or something of that nature to begin your jam session. See what you think. I am not sure what a wishing bone is unless you mean wishbone. I think you have a typo and mean 'viscous' (slow moving, syrupy) in your close. What happened to the crescendo of rush hour? You know, milk the jazz song/city metaphor. All the best on your next edit./Chris

[Eugene_Moon]

I do agree with Brownlie, your fragments man. If you just edit your lines a little bit, make sure you end with a complete thought, then it's just about perfect. Your rhyme and flow is very balanced, and word choice superior! Great work, you're very talented!

[SuicidalBlueJay]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

Hmmm I don't know what to think of this poem. I'm a newbie so don't take any critique to heart. I just have a hard time understanding poems with such metaphor and imagery.
I like the ending though. "the silence now grows viscose with defeat."
Powerful.

[Thoughtjotter]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you -----are you saying the sound of cars remind you that you forgot something?
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end----------your cheekbones are my wishing bones, tied ? (like I said, I'm slow on my interpretations)
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

I am a bit slow on the understanding of poetry, even after reading it allowed several times. maybe I will someday learn.
R T

[crow]

Jazz
--I'm looking for a poem about a conversation between different sound-making instruments

Mid-afternoon[,] as quiet as can be[,]
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note.
--this is someone who ran a red light and got honked at. cool.
Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands.
--the image is a face superimposed on hands gripping 2 and 10?
Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
--a traffic accident and the narrator is dying
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
--gust of wind calls to the idea of a horn section
the silence now
grows viscose
--viscous?
with defeat.
--someone who fought for life lost the struggle?

Is this a car speaking to a driver who just wrecked the car?

[Alexearth]

Mid-afternoon as quiet as can be
inside a bustling city, cars telling you
what you forgot
on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
yet barely, to the reverse end
of my drunken hands. Such giddy
pleasure having you
at mere arm’s length; this crazy
saxophonist bent
double, smuggling last breaths
over the pulsing border.
Light ceases, in between
the gust of wind
has died
beside the blackness of your eye,
the silence now
grows viscose
with defeat.

Poems with such imagery has always fascinated me. And I don't think understanding the poem is really important, it is more the atmosphere shared here that matters. Somber but yet beautiful

[zmeansy]

on a high note. Your cheekbones
are my wishing bone, tied
with great care
I can here the Tune in these lines baby!!
I liked this poem! I think you could even PUNCH it up a notch at the end!

ZM

[Agamemnon]

Having gotten into jazz about two years ago and being into jamming I find this poem to be very interesting. I agree with what someone said above about the poem being fragmented and disorganized, however I find that if this is to mimic the sound of a jazz jam this might be perfect as jazz musicians do play around a lot of with the rhythm in their phrases. I also do quite like the city imagery this evokes.

I find it to be jazzy in its own right. I'm not too familiar with poetry of this kind to offer an amazing critique but if the aforementioned jazz mimicry is what you're going for, then I say it's pretty good.

[KatBrown]

I am a Jazz voice instructor by trade and I so wanted to go with the imagery of this poem when it started. It started out with such a strong word picture with the phrase (quiet afternoon in a bustling city with cars telling you on a high note what you forgot) I immediately pictured New York city recovering after a night of partying and the stillness disturbed by the shrillness of a taxi driver laying on the horn dragging people back from a drunken stupor to reality. Then you just stopped and were on to the next word picture which seemed to me to lack connection to the story you began to tell. The poem didn't really pick up for me again until (Light ceases, in between the gust of wind) almost as if they entire day had past and I missed it. I guess I'd say stay with your imagery a little longer and develop it. If feels incomplete

[tectak]

I do agree with Brownlie, your fragments man. If you just edit your lines a little bit, make sure you end with a complete thought, then it's just about perfect. Your rhyme and flow is very balanced, and word choice superior! Great work, you're very talented!

Please read the poem that you are critting. Making observations which do not relate makes crit pointless. You say that rhyme is balanced. What rhyme? You say that that flow is balanced. What is flow? This is not to say that you are to be vilified for attempting crit but it must be VALID and not falsely generic.Please take this note as a general comment on all such crit.
Mod.