in the Java ‘n’ Jazz

Tags

2014, 6*, afternoon, Ashdown Forest, balance, bay window, bossanova, clockwork, coffee shop, Forest Row, guitar, jazz, music, openness, pavement, Saturday, shops, Sunday

                                                                                in the Java ‘n’ Jazz the
                                                                                                                bossanova
                                                                                                guitar

                                                                chorded and semi toned (down the
                                                                                                neck) and
                                                                                always regained on the

                                                minor before the bay window-front
                                                                                onto
                                                                a muggy Saturday afternoon

                                like Sunday used to be with all the shops
                                                                closed and
                                                with clockwork

                the pavement shop sign is folded up
                                                and returned closed
                                by the door

with next week’s opening times

 

first published in the Poetry Jar 160914; the Java ‘n’ Jazz is a coffee shop that relaxes in the small village of Forest Row in Ashdown Forest

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

afternoon wormhole: make your rickety / constructs strong with / unbending grids / of attention and wide- / open grates of let
Ashdown Forest wormhole: a nice grey woollen picnic blanket
balance wormhole: balance
coffee shop wormhole: Mark & Jon at the coffee shop IV: right angles
guitar wormhole: words tumble like / boulders – poewieview #25
music wormhole: ‘someone …’
openness wormhole: this time
Saturday wormhole: time
shops wormhole: in the / Citadel / Park / a leaf / new / ly fell
Sunday wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – intemperance

 

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words tumble like / boulders – poewieview #25

Tags

1970s, 1971, 2016, bed, Bowie, brick, buildings, cartoon, clouds, flats, form, guitar, hearing, height, litter, music, park, passing, pipes, shops, silence, sky, step, suburbia, trees, wind, words, world, writing

                           lying still enough in the quiet of bedclothes
                           you can hear the pops in the sky as the
                           clouds settle and the resolve of form as

                           the trees are passed, all big-flared steps
                           through the park like the coming cartoons,
                           into the suburbs, (across the globe), but

                           always back to the room above the shops
                           under height of building pipework and the
                           block of flats, where the brick and grime

                           ignore the swirling litter … but then later,
                           among strumming, the words tumble like
                           boulders, each to their own defining clunk

 

settled throughout: Holy Holy, 1971; Oh! You Pretty Things, 1971; Fill Your Heart, 1971; How Lucky You Are (Miss Peculiar), 1971; Hang On To Yourself, 1971, after the dust

Read the collected movements in David Bowie: Movements in Suite Major

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

1971 wormhole: 1971
Bowie & buildings & wind wormhole: no one – poewieview #24
clouds wormhole: b / r / e / a / t / h / i / n / g
guitar wormhole: 08:55
music wormhole: well,
park & trees wormhole: 1963
passing & silence wormhole: 1965
shops wormhole: crease and score of silver-morning sky
sky wormhole: 1968
words wormhole: my // shell – poewieview #19
world wormhole: tong len / the inauguration of another – timely – butter fly effect / taking and giving
writing wormhole: need

 

08:55

Tags

'scape, 2015, bass, grey, guitar, Lewes, reggae, shops, sky, sound, streets, time

                                                                      08:55

                                weeyall weeyall weeyall
                                of a shop alarm under

                                a grey sky down the
                                high street and the bass

                                line (but no guitar strike)
                                of reggae in the delivery

            van not quite yet in beat

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

grey & sky wormhole: the breath of London
guitar wormhole: three musicians
Lewes wormhole: you can only smell the candles / when they have been snuffed out
shops wormhole: purple and mauve
sound wormhole: com- / mute
streets wormhole: currency: / assent for statement – / ‘smakin’alivvin’
time wormhole: bougainvillea

 

three musicians

Tags

1830, 2104, brother, eyes, gaze, green, guitar, hands, landscape, lips, neck, pink, portrait, silk, sister, sky, sleeve, velvet, white, years

 

 

 

                three musicians

                the velvet sleeve crumpled
                from out the musty landscape
                the silken collar waven white
                from the green velvet bodice
                the cinnamon-milky neck from
                tremulous-springy collar bones
                the chilled-pink ear that
                directs her gaze newly upwards
                as her sister guides with held
                hand-unto lips-engorged sky
                past the gaze of brother into
                her eyes her eyes from which
                berry-sweet new chordings
                can be found on the guitar neck

 

Of One Heart – Cornelis Kruseman, 1830

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

eyes wormhole: gre[wh]y / has Daddy left us?
green wormhole: Morning in a City, 1944
guitar wormhole: city twilight
hands wormhole: recline
pink wormhole: Totnes
sky wormhole: The Louvre in a Thunderstorm, 1909
white wormhole: I do
years wormhole: 1963

 

city twilight

Tags

'scape, 1978, being, breeze, city, guitar, music, passing, traffic, twilight

 

 

 

                city twilight

                by the slow traffic
                he played his guitar
                in descending sevenths and diminisheds

                down in jazz-skuffle beat
                up in the breeze

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

being wormhole: crumpled / notebooks / at the end of a gentle retreat
breeze wormhole: Jean Miller kissed Salinger
city wormhole: where the real action // always is
guitar wormhole: day off
music & traffic wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
passing wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight

 

day off

Tags

2013, attention, cleaning, doing, fear, flower, growing, guitar, hope, house, jam, reading, sandwich, self-compassion, talking to myself, writing

 

 

 

                                                              day off

                you could write a piece that quietly chords
                                a lost decade
                or you could play Solitaire and unbelieving
                                lose $5000

                you could read a hundred pages of the most
                                beautiful word
                or play the guitar-line weary in your head again
                                again

                you could clean a house transparent in which to smell
                                a flower
                or fix another jam sandwich to chew over
                                old exchanges but

                whatever you do in hope and whatever you don’t do
                                in fear never
                never let it all slip from your almost-not-watching
                                parent-attention

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

attention wormhole: waiting room
doing wormhole: ‘like a piece of ice on a hot stove / the poem must ride on its own melting’
guitar wormhole: b / l / u / e / s / at a right-angle
house wormhole: tag cloud poem IV – C
reading wormhole: Tulips by Sylvia Plath – How Far To Step Before You Raise The Other Foot
talking to myself wormhole: poessay VII: // true revolution
writing wormhole: I could step / more open

 

b / l / u / e / s / at a right-angle

Tags

'scape, 2013, blues, guitar, passing, time

 

 

 

                                     b
                                     l
                                     u
                                     e
                                     s
                                     at a right-angle

                                     the guitar
                           stood in its stand for
                              months

                                     I noticed
                           while passing and although
                              my nails had

                                     grown
                           long I played a few rounds
                              without

                                     picking it up

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

guitar wormhole: axis: bold as love
passing wormhole: a splash of fresh water
time wormhole: what I am about to say is true / what I just said was a lie

 

axis: bold as love

Tags

'scape, 2012, afternoon, guitar, Jimi Hendrix, light, love, people, pub, sun, talking, windows

 

 

 

                                   axis: bold as love

                                   shaded wall lights
                                   and renewing crests
                                   of talking and eating
                                   across the busy tables

                                   and what is that song end
                                   of verse with guitar finish
                                   but then the sun
                                   came out and caught the
                                   curved backs of two empty chairs

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

afternoon wormhole: tag cloud poem II – acceptance
guitar wormhole: electric guitar
light wormhole: quest in brown
love wormhole: lost self
people wormhole: shared anxiety
sun wormhole: … sshhh
talking wormhole: multifarious: the Dark Knight Returns (1986)
windows wormhole: gazing at the night / as my eyes passed the jagged hole / my head disappeared

 

electric guitar

Tags

'scape, 1995, 4*, black, guitar, Hillside, potential, tension

 

 

 

                                electric guitar

                more than

                that the strings are
                still

                                holding

                a hundredweight
                along the neck

                that the box
                waits plugged
                wired

                                connected

                but no electricity

                is that the body

                is black

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

black wormhole: comicbook morning
guitar wormhole: one mirror
Hillside wormhole: ‘standing astride …’

 

one mirror

Tags

'scape, 1981, 2*, blue, drum, eyes, green, guitar, hair, mauve, mirror, orange, portrait, sand, snow, trees, white, wood

 

 

 

                     eyes are blue
                     often they are drums
                     and they sweat like hair
                     with cannonballs

                     one mirror
                     one guitar strumming
                     green hand-waves
                     one world on a fingernail
                     cracked and orange

                     the last time a tree played the sand
                     was when my foot accidently cried
                     into three pieces of icing and snow

                     the fall was gentle and mauve
                     the pattern was wooden static and beating

 

 

 

^{————w}(O)rmholes_________________________________|—–

blue wormhole: ‘the blue wall …’
eyes wormhole: marketsquarefight
green & guitar wormhole: ‘the run of …’
mauve wormhole: ‘across the street …’
orange wormhole: grain
snow wormhole: biography
trees wormhole: grasses
white wormhole: condensation
wood wormhole: green wine