16 August 2011

Southbound

Photo courtesy of James Rinalducci Jazz





















southern man south bound
burning asphalt beneath tires
suitcase full of thin black notes
whole, half and quarters
flats and sharps
semiquaver
breath marks

his one and only woman
rides along, cherished,
the spur behind the odyssey
long and shapely, elegant
in her flushed metallic beauty
her given name, Gilda

through big cities, sleepy towns
southern man and inamorata
weave their melody appassionato
scatter lush black notes into
southern skies, no interlude until
the suitcase empties and they
are north bound once again

{ Written for my friend and favorite sax man James Rinalducci who is currently on a tour and a journey of discovery through the south lands. I wish him well. }

22 comments:

  1. Your poem slid deep into my soul like husky, mellow notes.

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  2. ha this was right up my alley...being a sax player myself and my alto sax is called selma...and i can tell you she's a french femme fatale...smiles

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  3. mmm this has a delicious feel to it...i am in the car riding along just to listen to the gigs...

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  4. Love this! He must be a soulful son indeed to inspire such a wonderful tribute! The imagery, like smooth jazz, the word weaving, fantastic as always!

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  5. Absolutely exquisite, bluesy and fully realized lyrical poem, Diana-- just the right touch. xxxxj

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  6. Real soulful piece, haha had to say that. Has a wonderful lyrical presence to it.

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  7. Ahhh, so a semiquaver is a musical note -- never knew that.

    hope Gilda is bringing much joy to many on the tour.

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  8. love the concept of the notes being in a suitcase. First stanza very nice. Di you should come post on our board sometime, baby, if you want some constructive feedback. It's a good vibe

    Warmest Salad

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  9. i especially like how the suitcase empties and then the return. and breath marks. that's a very nice tribute to your friend.

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  10. I love your description of the notes in the suitcase, creates such amazing images! :)

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  11. The pace is electrifying in the fimal stanza
    - a quickening and flourish to finalise a smart tribute

    Arron Shilling

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  12. Never appreciated how sexy a sax can be til I really listened with my eyes closed.
    Lovely piece of yours to describe it too.

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  13. gorgeous writing...LOVED the last verse especially!

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  14. Wanted to play sax as a youth, but was talked into taking trumpet lessons instead. But my family exclaimed whenever I practiced that golden horn, "Do you have to do that in here?!?" Haunted jazz clubs in high school and college just to hear. Later, when I went back home looking for that ol' trumpet again, found my mother had given it away -- to a boy she thought actually would play... Charles Elliott

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  15. I love the images and feel of this!

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  16. Diana - gorgeous music here - what a tribute! I'd paste a copy of this on the top of the case and read it before I played. You are an inspiration, still a goddess, dear one! Seriously, excellent write!

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  17. Oh, this is smooth! Love this.

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  18. Full of character and music. Loved the suitcase of notes.

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  19. love the sax... black notes...
    and the empty suitcase -
    space is needed to create.
    ~ wonderfully musical!
    deb

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  20. You portray this wonderfully - I can hear the notes!

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