upon waking
no upon the waking
this waking neither first nor last
cold floor
a warm bulb shivers
the alley cat
still feral
counting its own lives
already half made of sound
arriving before it arrives
casts what your february
in its orange persistence
cast before
the hour of the lamp
is standing without you
one thought
and the thought that will not come
something there
has sunk its canines into
the syllables
your syllables
syllabub curdled
frothing
the syllabus
your mother birthed you with
wet and new
red-ink margins
not rehearsing them
no never rehearsing
conducting them slowly
as an orchestra pit must
when all the musicians have gone home
dry and gone
and no one answers the downbeat
and no one
and no one
two three four
the downbeat has no one left to strike
you lift your hand
the cat walks out of the sound it made
already elsewhere
leaving where it will return
leaving before it has left
Double-dutch ropes slap the sidewalk -
snap - snap - snap -
braids whip air,
girls jump in, counting
uno, dos, three,
feet flick like drumsticks.
The ice cream truck jingles off-key,
icy lady shakes paper cups,
piragua man shaves ice into snow -
his knife scraping the block awake.
Pastelillos pop in hot oil -
spit, sizzle -
plastic cups clink with rum and cola,
congas crack, maracas shake salt in the air,
horns blare like chisme in heat.
Heels click-clack over concrete -
punctuating each spin,
each swirl of hips.
Whistles split the air -
one from the lifeguard at Jefferson,
two from the men on the corner,
three from abuela
when the coals are hot.
Somebody throws meat on the grill -
ssszzzz -
smoke climbs windows,
neighbors bring foil trays -
yellow rice, ribs, roasted corn -
each dish a downbeat.
Kids yell cannonball,
water smacks back,
lifeguard’s whistle cuts through splash.
Old heads tap dominoes on tabletops -
crack, slap, smack -
hands older than the stoops they sit on.
The block fills itself
the way music fills a drum -
the street hums under bare feet.
Tonight,
the moon will smell like charcoal
and sweet ice.
Andy O’(Snaps fingers rhythmically) The air hangs thick with midnight blue/And the city hums a graffiti tune/ a voice cuts through, a velvet blade/Andy O’, where stories are made/Poet, Musician, Broadcaster's soul/Navigating the sonic scroll of a downbeat that will never fade/KUVO Jazz, a haven's light/On Sunday nights, banishing the uptight/The Nightside a whispered promise kept/Where restless minds and tired souls have wept/And found solace in a whispered rhyme/A tapestry woven, defying space and time/Mr. Andy O’ cradles the jazz, a smoky embrace/And invites the poetry to find its place/A conversation, deep and low/Of saxophone sighs and verses that flow/The ongoing relationship, raw and true/Between a trumpet's cry and Gil Scott heron spoken word on heartache, hope, and dreams deferred/In every chord and every whispered word/So tune in to the hip Andy O’/ let the darkness fade/As Andy O’ builds the jazzy serenade of stars on the poetry and jazz parade/ For on the Nightside, the truth is revealed In the marriage of poetry, and how jazz makes us feel to be real in the truth of it/ Andy O’ Snaps fingers, silence/ And walks away to broadcast for another day/
Tony Adamo
Hold the Applause – Pick a Title Vol. 52, 6-8-25, Sponsor Edward Ibeh
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hold the Applause
Hold the applause
As the last note holds it’s breath
Before the keynote
Exhales
Before the melody
Takes a solitary journey
Into a taciturn hush.
Nascent
Waits
Like an incognito coda,
A second ending,
Rejecting the downbeat of resolution.
A breathless
Motif
Expands
Into the glorious,
Unfolding
Into fresh synonyms,
Anointed arias,
Unfolding like auroras
In stanzas
Pregnant with commas.
The ties of friendship
Life without friends is incomplete.
An important ingredient for the recipe of life.
They make life beautiful and downbeat.
Gives a boost of excitement and thrill for the journey of life.
You treasure your friends as a gift,
Love and honesty are what you give.
We turn to them when our soul needs a lift.
Friends make life a better place to live.
Say, dig what I say
Talkin’ bout a new jazz vibe/
Man, move over/
the Jazz Cookers are hittin’ their stride in the groove to stay alive/
Eddie Henderson/
Cecil McBee/
George Cables,Billy Hart
and Billy Harper/
swingin’ harder jazz be flying/
downbeat, upbeat, man, count It off/
their soul auras are in the jazz notes they play/
David Weiss and Donald Harrison are fryin’ their amps/
burnin’ the house down/
with the jazz club scene in decline/
and record labels cuttin’ back on jazz/
the jazz Cookers have to stay alive and relevant in a jazz-changing world/
so dig, be cool struttin’ as Sonny Clark would say/
you might not always get a payday but you love to play/
the Cookers boss horns are on fire/
hip tones blowin' from the stage/bro, this is the jazz life you chose and after a gig, you might be all alone/
so be in the moment and improvise on your jazz note phrasing/
you’ll find the rhythm and meaning knowing you can play the same note gig after gig night after night/
but different every time/
are you hip to the Cookers?/
they will have you finger poppin’ and blowin' your mind/
wahoo that’s a whole lotta jazz
Once we were a matching pair, some days we’d get downbeat
as we both couldn't abide the stench of sweaty cheesy feet!
Our male owner would pop us in the washing machine
with warm soapy suds we’d soon smell fresh and clean
But now my ‘sole mate’ has gone missing and I am bereft
I was worn on the right foot, and he was worn on the left
Our owner removed the washing machine gasket
then checked the tumble drier and laundry basket
Alas my companion is still missing, life just isn’t fair
a single sock is useless, and I’m filled with despair
So my owner’s sock stock has now been depleted
and with my partner gone I’m feeling de-feeted!
What use is one sock, maybe one day I’ll be ‘heeled’
if the sock monster’s secret stash is suddenly revealed!
So for now I am consigned to the back of a drawer
with other odd socks and I'm sure there’ll be lots more!
I’ll apologise here at the start
For this verse won’t appeal to your heart.
So banal, it’s a shame
But I’ll shoulder the blame
’Cos it's not rude, nor funny, nor smart!
I adorn your flesh in trivial words and heat,
The quartz in each brushwork may deplete.
Ashy blossoms under shattered feet,
In the dusk, inspired by optimization accrete.
Deep-set violet eyes without a discreet,
Reaching clouds that cover your sight beat.
Seeking to deprive the tempo of greet,
Illuminating this obstacle isn't defeat.
When your sight is adequate to compete,
I shall entice you till our bones excrete.
Betrayals occur during the heat of deceit,
Overwhelmed in combustion entreat.
Salt from the sea is in tears and downbeat,
Inhaling every color of poetry may reheat.
I bestow my words to the shells of your feat,
Leaving blurry traces in my vision to meet.
You are safe and muttered during the retreat,
I am inhaling your irrational fear and heat.
Rose petals satiate voids in the heartbeat.
Written: December 04, 2022
Souls amid vagueness
we sustain an inheritance
when affection is betrayed
the fights ratified a farewell
prior, we struck the shore
In the last spell of my life
faults are piled high on the mound
it swirls and coils into clouds
I must uncover my path; I am lost
In this swarm of torn seasons
without anything
I have sprung up to the summit
I smile when I notice...
hazy veil of the night rise
breed shivers off my handle
With one stroke, one can restore one’s life
There was on top a loss of insight and wit
Avalon-like in the Gollum
and, there is no absolute power
or fables
awaken the venerable
to the days of audacity
On clear days, honey abounds
Swathe across each space
even the downbeat ones
born from a bold hand
escaping from hives
bees flew away from the disarray
even more so now than before
they were wretched to find the blooms
If you recognize, how an artist reckons
all eyes will be on the hibiscus
through every conflict
Written: October 23, 2022
IN CONTEXT
this tension
of
intelligence
at the heart
fragments
shuttle past
the timeline
of
loneliness
a tempting place
construed
with reticencent
to reflect
& reinterpret
or explain
supplanted
by desperation
in downbeat
resilience
&tactility
ambiguity
of emotions
plunge
unresolved
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
I
God still reigns
What pains?
Count it gain
I won't complain
Jesus took ALL
I stand tall
II
Yes, people plot
What (have) they got?
Love, try forgiveness
Oft a long process
But no other way
Wars cannot stay
They start in hearts
Stop shooting (eye) darts
Upbeat or downbeat
Yet all in a heartbeat
Joy or sorrow, today or tomorrow
Happy or sad, good or bad
Harmony or strife
All rhythms of life
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bite Size Poem #35 Poetry Contest
Honorable Mention
~ downbeat ~
cold feet
seek heat
they meet
hot seat
no treat
they tweet
these feet
mincemeat
we're beat
they bleat
complete
defeat
drumbeat
downbeat
code name for hustler
sordid, downbeat, serious—
Joe Buck and Rico
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