Jun 2015
the scream of a siren
painted upon the night
a woman's laughter
in brilliant blue & white
an angry reddish brawl
trapped in an unseen alley
this the Jackson ******* of
the sound of a Saturday night
here in my room
Duke Ellington is
taking the A Train.
painted upon the night
a woman's laughter
in brilliant blue & white
an angry reddish brawl
trapped in an unseen alley
this the Jackson ******* of
the sound of a Saturday night
here in my room
Duke Ellington is
taking the A Train.
My attempt at an attempt to capture this moment is a poem written in all this wonderful sunshine with the bees jazzing with the lavender bushes and my mind is....thrown back to a winter long long ago in a lonely hotel where the neon fizzles off and then stutters on. . .
Sir Duke would not have his piano tuned to perfect pitch as perfect pitch didn't sound genuine...lacked that human touch...human warmth. So too this moment( I had to decide what to leave out as much as what to put in )is a perfect moment in an un-perfect world in a NY off the beaten tourist path. I would take the A train myself the next day and would leave this moment behind me...run away from it only for it to turn up 25 years later right smack in front of me as Guildfordian bees played the jazz of this summer's day.
Sir Duke would not have his piano tuned to perfect pitch as perfect pitch didn't sound genuine...lacked that human touch...human warmth. So too this moment( I had to decide what to leave out as much as what to put in )is a perfect moment in an un-perfect world in a NY off the beaten tourist path. I would take the A train myself the next day and would leave this moment behind me...run away from it only for it to turn up 25 years later right smack in front of me as Guildfordian bees played the jazz of this summer's day.
