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radiating
street lamps
ionized the
indigo blue
haze charging
the night air

sparking the
city’s eclectic
currents coursing
through the
abandoned raceways
and empty streets

energizing the
phantoms of
the city’s
restive spirits

the ghosts of past
Great Falls Fests came
jitterbugging back
to life

transparent
veils lifting
and falling
with it, a voltaic
indigo blue
billowed out of the
abandoned stadium
pouring smoking
oboe moans
into the cavity
of the great gorge

“I was one of the last
to perform at
Hinchliffe Stadium”
Duke proclaimed
with his usual  
distinguished air

“it was also one of my
last concerts”, he added
with a tinge of
sorrow in his voice

“the band was rockin
the Art Deco tiles,
splintering and shattering
into bits of earth toned graffiti
the last vestiges of
a bygone Jazz Age
dissolving into the
disco fizz of the
Seventies”

the indigo mood
clamoured off
the rocks absorbing
the sonorous waves
like a stand of
hallowed
sequoias

“I’m trying to
remember what
my last tune
was that night.

was it Caravan?
or a Prelude to
a Kiss?  No no
too mellow
we always ended
on an upper
a real crowd pleaser,
I recall the boys swung
a medley before the grand finale
that medley included
Mood Indigo, Caravan,
Sophisticated Ladies,
Prelude to a Kiss.
We opened with Kinda Dukish
Rockin and Rhythm
we closed with
Satin Doll
Yes I’m quite sure
I waltzed them
off the floor
that night with
Satin Doll”

Duke ran his
fingers through
his processed hair.
He grabbed my shoulders
raised his baggy eyelids
And looked me straight
In the eye

“Yes, we followed
Tito Puente, he killed it
we upped our game
He was just starting out
But at this time Silk City
was going Caribe
Juan Tizol was
out of his mind that night,
I thought him and Babs
we're gunna jump ship
and join the Salsa Circus
Yeah El Rex and Celia Cruz
were that good

El Rex had the place
jumpin and jivin
it was a glimpse of the old days
livin in the here and now
just like the old days
I couldn't compete with that
so I waltzed them off
the floor with Satin Doll
a little cheek to cheek swoon
maybe some guys got lucky that night
and maybe some girls fell in love
Yeah Paterson was changing,
the ***** Leagues long gone
the last ****** Auto Races
crossed the final finish line weeks before
when the raceways in the stadium
replaced the raceways to the factories
we knew it was coming to an end
and with it all the good paying
jobs, whatta shame
just like me and the boys
watching El Rex
the Duke was dethroned by a King
just like Silk City
we had our day in the sun too
a Satin Doll Sun
Those were some good times,
sometimes”

Duke scratched
his head,
and he looked down into
the swirling noise
of the Great Falls
“on a night like this
the mood indigo
takes you into the
darkest hues of blues”

fragment from
Silk City PIT 6:
The Great Falls

Duke Ellington, Coleman Hawkins
Mood Indigo




Oakland
3/30/13
jbm

(FRAGMENT WORK IN PROGRESS)

Part 6 of extended poem Silk City PIT.  PIT is an acronym for Point In Time.  PIT is an annual census American cities conduct to count the homeless population.  Hope and Labor is the city motto of Paterson NJ, nick named The Silk City.
(FRAGMENT WORK IN PROGRESS)

Part 6 of extended poem Silk City PIT.  PIT is an acronym for Point In Time.  PIT is an annual census American cities conduct to count the homeless population.  Hope and Labor is the city motto of Paterson NJ, nick named The Silk City.
LC Mar 2020
the threads connecting us
to our loved ones
need to stay strong
like spider's silk
to survive this battle.
stay safe. we need each other.
Emily Mitchell Feb 2020
Strands of drifting silk
Glisten in the gentle breeze
Intangible wisps.
Inspired by that time of season when the baby spiders are ballooning using strands of gossamer silk to get from place to place.
Emily Mitchell Feb 2020
Dreams flow, come and go...
vague shadows,  like silk slipping
swiftly through my grasp...
More dream poems
Unpolished Ink Feb 2020
Silken spider thread

Cobweb soft

A whispered sigh

Hanging on the breeze

Silent song of hard worked creation

Strung like pearls to catch the morning

Intricate patterns

Each tiny artist works alone

Beauty on the wire

A gallery of infinite variety
Serendipity Feb 2020
When you learn
that we are nothing more
than silk wrapped bone
and mortality,
then peace will flood you
and the gates to existence
will open.
Water, as
moving
silk upon
my mind,
is the
endless
river I float
upon in
my small
wooden
boat, I
remember
the flowers
dancing
to the
song
of mine
alone,
I only
wish
to soar
amongst
them
with my
bare feet,
and forget
how I was
once the
one who
fell to
tears
alone,
I sought
to dream,
and still,
I shall,
I row my
boat, & the
milky waves
of the dark,
in their
serenity,
return the
memory
of being
under wool
blankets,
being under
the music of
the moonlit
rain outside,
still warm from
chamomile
tea, as the
gentler
summer
wind
allowing  
my hair to
roam in the
wheatgrass
fields of
memories,
as slivers of
light in the
stream of
consciousness,
painted thoughts
shifting as clouds,
I yearn to hold
those embraces
of solace, I roam
forever in the night
sea, I rested my eyes,
when I was once
in your arms,
seeking to
return
home.
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