you say in Chicago
you came to know
Miles Davis.
Miles Davis!
lies! you should know
you can never know
anyone
especially a jazz man
think of all that
im prov isat ion, think
of all that so lo in g!
Category Archives: music
when he played "The Pretender"
blue crabs stroll
along the night surface
of water that before
looked just like
chocolate silk and
there is this girl,
she sits alone hood
to block the wind and
behind her two women
call woooo wooos
to Jackson Browne while
a man smokes solo
next to a prudish streetlight
the yellow beer guys
carry their loads and
there is this man
he mumbles as he walks
to work his second shift
and the boaters honk
horns in approval
holding hands and rocking
while a vast sea
sings along decades past.
[jackson browne played pier 6 in baltimore tonight.
http://www.ilike.com/artist/Jackson+Browne/track/The+Pretender ]
riding my bike at night (and Russian classical music)
riding fast
down the center yellow lane
no cars
no stops at the signs
(quick turn)
down back alleys
thinking,
i’ve spent my whole entire life
rejecting
everyone
(swerve to avoid a
winter
pothole)
i’ve never felt so ____
as riding this bike
now, darkened city sleeping,
(hop the curb)
and at home,
when i arrive
the Russian classical
echoes alone in
the apartment,
furtive
(minor) steps along-
side my own.
bass player at The Horse You Came In On
Angelo playing inside
these filthy walls since ’90
no longer plays to the walls
but is the walls
is the smokeyceiling
theneonlights thehanging
plants
the thuddrumthuddrum
thuddrum comeon !
all us hangingvines
pour the cobblestones
drink seasons moldy classics
become bassline players like Angelo
slowly slowly over time, thuddrum
thuddrum comeon !
plants prefer classical music
the Gerber and I
share a drink
and a secret glance–
the plant sighs! stretches
leaves towards now
darkened streets earlier
bathed in light,
stretches roots to
the mazurkas of Chopin
rolling piano like so many
other late nights
dives in the creases
of my eyes
and the thin membranes
of leaves.
like an 84-year old chord
gentle rub rub
of the dock
trees sway
oh that cityfied night sky,
all purple
and lit from within,
beyond that
one year dusted, it
shivers neon, reminding.
“Rusty Scupper
Restaurant”
when i had but
change in my pocket
when i had but
blues on my side….
around, and out
B.B. King
and Lucille
“the thrill is gone
the thrill is gone away.”
then. clapping.
echoes the air like an
84-year old chord.
phish (haiku)
went to my first Phish show (only about 15 years late). a beautiful night –
pyre of sound to
moon witness colors shine that
green music alive!
community speaks:
“second set sparkle! will you
be here tomorrow?”
http://phishthoughts.com/2010/06/27/progressive-phish/ for more on the show from someone who actually knows his stuff!
musical taste
I have:
my father’s penchant
for “thinking man” classical
and my mamma’s love
of a sexy singer.
[quick note that i can’t help but share (sorry ma): my mom preferred Herman’s Hermits over the Beatles because she said they were “cuter”! HA]
to Alexi Murdoch (breathe)
just home from DC, event at the National Press Club (very cool) and a great lunch with a publishing friend. pleasant day to be sure! listened to lots of Alexi Murdoch in the car and was hit by this… scribbled it while my knee did the driving (sorry drivers around me!!) and here it is (song link is below)~
to Alexi Murdoch (breathe)
sitting cross-legged
Siddhartha I am
in that ancient form
practicing
letting all in my cells
escape in a steady
stream, imagining your voice
deep and beautiful
in that ancient chant
letting the sound of the song
sink me completely down
until you compel my face
to break above
and my eyes open wide
as the fresh air
rushes in.
shannon hoon makes me sad
The man singing to me
About change
And the face of today
Is dead.
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