"THE JAZZ ELEPHANT STORY" An Original Mythology

by Lastas Palas / copy write 2015 - VMA#1082015

We got to travel way back to get to this tale. Way back to a more universal time. Talkin’ about a time steeped in the precious. About a time when the creatures of the planet actively courted this planet as a lover. Talkin’ about that pre-zoo time. That old pre-circus time. That time before the force of man had gone against the grain of flow.-

 

Talking about that time when water flowed like smiling eyes. Talking about a time when there was genuine air up in the skies. I'm talking about a signature distinguished I just how well the elephants were able to languish oh yeah elephants! Having no natural enemies he could relax with the changes and dally through life's youth… and there was one who did just that. While all the other germs were packing around in there heard consciousness there was one who stole the part, acknowledging some rhythm of the tree or of the sky, a muted trunk tone reflecting the pulse of sweet scales. Now there was an understanding in and amongst these creatures that populated this back then habitat. An unspoken code of balance. An uncontractual sense of proportion, for outside the killing of each other for the purposes of perpetuating the food chain cycle struggle, all these creatures had a good time in this well-oiled land of abundance.

"The Jazz Elephant Suite."

Now while all the others would throw quantities of dirt on their tough skin backs, strip bark from trees, Bath in them old mud banked rivers to, and generally do all those things the ivory creatures are prone to do. But, there was this one, jazz elephant. One who without a doubt stood out. Knowing that distinction he would be for all who desired his taste, or tasted his desire of joy.

He was not bedecked with ill eloquence. He had chosen his heart carefully. He was defiantly priority. He had to have that syncopated rhythmic response to all things, at all times, in every way. So, he leaves his traditional pose, interested only in the facts of total gladness’s. Born to quench others by way of his unending thirst and inexplicable liquid eyes. He was a myth in search of reality, to unleash the muse upon the earth. You must know who we be talking about by now. He was as immediate as slang. We been talking about that loan, full-grown jazz chromosome. One who never counted the quips on the lips which followed his desires as closely as Cabernet is to Sauvignon. Alas, that old jazz elephant was on the verge of enlarging is already larger than life self into life for the lust of it, and lusting for the life within. Oh yeah you know we be talking about that jazz elephant. Epitomizing all who could load a phrase, because he was youthful power, a source natural and free enough to become legend and to unleash the muse upon the earth. He was the pulse well-tempered. Why, he was as fragrent as your recognition of acceptance. Flagrant as that smile you never knew you had, other than in that yearn fantasy.

"The Water Hole."

But, now the time has come for the introduction of that jazz elephant. He sure was something wasn't he? But, we don't have to be formal any longer and from now on we shall refer to our hero as Jazzelli, which is what he was fondly nickname by his contemporaries.

But, as you often must know, life wasn't and isn't always accelerative, and these contemporaries didn't always have unabated fondness in their hearts for him. No, not at all! For the way I hear it was that even elephant prodigies have to see themselves sooner or later… so, what happened at the waterhole was just such an illumination to Jazzelli, such a turning point in his young improvisational life. Now, he had come down to the water hole in seeing how well the desk was collecting. He felt his love well up inside causing him to unrestraine a tune beyond measure, a tune beyond compare. Well, what had begun as innocent expression soon proved to be the catalyst of big change… Check what happened!

Now, while Jazzelli crooned his tune other specific creatures of the domain were involved in a task completely oppositional to song. They were hunting for their daily sustenance, their usual euphemism as if their very lives depended on it. So, when this measureless tune connected, something unheard of snapped… How like an overwhelmed mind buckles. Jazzelli's fusion was of such magnetism that all who heard it were transfixed by it, suspended by yet, mesmerized by it, dazed and confused by it. But, I want you to check what really happened… Now, in this dinner our part of the day, the predators having already heard Jazzelli's suitable yearns, soon were to become suspended in mid action from the objects of their voracious appetites, some of them had been in various postures of the pounce and kill. So persuasive was Jazzelli's musical feeling that these unlikely partners, the victims of prey, gazelles and other like types, as well as those aforementioned hardend stalkers of throats… Both of these representatives fell into spell encircling the water hole in serpentine, hand-in-hand, trancing their way to the source of the mesmeric sounds, spelled out, flowing with each others energy's unprejudiciously… mesmerized.

But, in the back of all their minds still seized in uncharacteristically swoon; they were stunned at what they found themselves doing. They were horrified beyond their limits of control.

Now, Jazzelli had gotten into it enough by now that his eyes began to roll up in sweet surrender, and when he finished returning to focus all the creatures experienced the shutter together. They all realize the fume which had consumed them, that place them in this unreasonable situation, and they were disgusted by it. Naturally, the first to react were the victims of prey who scampered away bewildered at the mirage of life. All of the remaining eyes had turned on Jazzelli, Some of them would go hungry tonight because of him. They have been made fools of this one time too many. Too far he had gone this time. That jazz elephant had become disproportionate to his peerage was obvious, and it was on this pivotal occasion that the syncopated one became taboo and thus expendable. He was crestfallen when they denounced and cursed him. You know one would think that at least the gazelle types would show some gratefulness for their rescue, but no such response was given. They had even later said that they would have rather been devoured furiously them to re-experience any like brotherly love occurrence again.

Jazzelli becomes saddened in his loneliness. He walked down that long road, headed hung in dejection. But, after a while he thinks to himself, why should I have to keep going through all this, all the time? He would not tolerate obstruction any longer. He knew he had procrastinated long enough. No longer would he be restricted to any one realm. It took the dream state of a toss and turn feverish sleep to weigh his forces ever so carefully, and to unlock the sequences of this new outlook.

He awakens bright eyed! A brand-new elephant, cleansed of depression and self-determined. He accepted that if his timing and finally arrived to be responsible for, if he was indeed the one who does, well then he would not be degraded for that pulse, but propelled into the breath of song, bruteless and well formed.

Well alright. I admit it. I confess it. If anything was done, he done did it. So what do you think of that jazz bone now? Let me tell you, he packed his trunk, slicked his hair back. He memorized his international datelines, and left his traditional pose a large enough dose to find himself perhaps into your own review of the lethal creativity's. To unleash upon us the cleen of his peak, and thus become museness his own self.

I Am

You see, it's all or nothing for me, for…

I am my own extinction to endure and I don't need help from me or yours...

I am not alone or abscessed… I consist of all the atmospheres worn on full of dreams weaned by the long ear hours of music burning for the sake of love spiraling majestically above the dawns of hope… I am symmetry with abandon… I am many lagoons warmer than persuasion… I am the children testing their powers of innocence at an early age… I am the universal juiceness, the ripeness of moist… I am the curiosity beyond ennui... I am not like you or me… I am as song illustrates color fibers… I am in any season of exchange ability, never insurance against ecstasy… I am my own extinction to endure… For nothing suits me better than to walk my talk down the passion avenues of glibness. Knowing nothing can replace the sky or that pie, on the sill cooling down the hatchness of it all. An original mythological story by Lastas Palas 85'