Goodman Poems

Oh Those Boswell Sisters

Some called the radio station demanding they throw them out of the studio.
Others called to brag about their talents, their arrangements, their sass.
Boswell sisters had been singing together since their Vaudeville days as teens.
Connee played sax and trombone,
Vet played banjo and guitar and Martha held down the piano.

They were popular in their hometown of New Orleans, playing with big bands.
Dorsey Brothers, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman all knew them.
These sisters blended “blackness” and “whiteness”, natural for them.
They loved to rework and rearrange popular songs; they were musicians.

They appeared in a film with Bing Crosby and Cab Calloway.
This led to thirteen appearances on the Bing Crosby Show.
Ella Fitzgerald patterned her style after Connee Boswell.
As did the Andrew Sisters a few years later.
The Boswells had a profound effect; incorporating scat, jazz and swing.

He's a Goodman-

Softness he was a man but yet he had a heart
This muscle bounds upstart
He wasn't frail he was a muscular bound man
Did I say he had a soft heart a meandering spirit a soul full of love

He's a good man yet and still he's a sinner 
I cannot judge him because he has repented
He's a good man and I'm sure someone loves him
He's a good man for he repented of his sins

And in all the while
He was someone's child
And though he's a man he too that boy feelings
A sweet and kind person
He's a good man
For everyone who's born comes 
From a woman 

And through their own choice consciousness 
The choice process 
They sin birthed into this realm 
You too can be a good man 
Just stop turn around repent and believe 
For the grace and mercies of God from above 
but they can come down into you within

For in God We trust if we just allow and believe it hush 
Be still look up receive and believe we too can be a good man

1/7/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022

The Sorry Present

I want to say I’m sorry - your present looks like that.
It wasn’t kicked by UPS or pummeled with a bat

The master wrappers I prefer, simply aren’t around
A slow economy got them or the covid cut them down.

My boys at Neiman Marcus, I miss those guys so much
and the girls Bergdorf Goodman had such a subtle touch

the lacy Le Bon Marché ribbons, are what set their work apart
no matter where you placed those gifts, they always looked like art

I miss those tasteful craftsmen, but instead of being depressed
I watched some Youtube lessons - and I tried my very best
but the present came out so miserably, I thought I should confess

Jazz Kit Mix

Blow your gills out
with Miles Davis, mellow n kind of blue
relax in black 'n white ways 'n days

all; all the jazz kit

Go on a blues Holiday Billie
away with the Jones’s Nora
get some Rays with Charles

Lenard needs his raincoat
he’s Cohen, hallelujah
hey that’s no way to say goodbye

Jason’s going 93 million Mras
to see if he can Bossa Nova
Amy’s gone the Winehouse with Mr Jones

Ronnie’s off up Scott
not Holland seeking Jools
or Lincoln looking for Abbey

with all; all the jazz kit

Immersed in Ethel Waters
Roberta took some Flack
and Charlie had to Parker

Ellington was no Duke
to some, 50 years ensemble king
he said; it don’t mean a thing

Courtney doesn’t Pine or sing
Benny, who stomped at the Savoy
was a Goodman, not a bad boy

Eartha wanted to be evil
but was so good
for Christmas she got nothing
she got nothing for Christmas 

but had it all; all the jazz Kitt.

Folksingers

There once were some Weavers
Who taught many of us to sing.
But it wasn't until much later in life
That their music would be my thing.

 I never followed Pete Seeger
 As his words with me didn't gel.
 It would not be until years later
 That others would finally tell.

   Peter, Paul, and Mary grabbed my attention
   With their skill, their courage, their art.
   Of all the groups that I have listened to
   They are closest to my heart.

      Others garnered my attention
      Donovan, Dylan, and Kingston Trio too.
      I'd love to listen and sing along
      As if every note was new.

        Steve Goodman was a true artist
        In his words of truth and form.
        Folksingers come in every age
        Croce's works were not the norm.

          How I do love to listen to them singing
          Or in some cases just strumming away.
          The one regret I have in all of this...
          I never learned how to play.

A Waltz With John Goodman

I imagine a waltz
With John Goodman
Would be a little like
Zorbing,
only instead of rolling down a hill
you'd be rolling around a dance floor.
I'd make sure to wear some stainless
steel shoes, as well.

To Keep the Wolves Away

My brave son of seven is leaving!
to spar with military jaws.
And I repeat, Lycurgis taught me these three laws:
to keep the wolves away: if I say three words today,
may they be concise and may they be brief-
"Equality, austerity, and military pay." 
And stole my son at seven, a Thief.

Equality lives in every mothers' grief;
   -' my son the soldier is fit and neat.'
Austere and upright, conditioned to bow and beat.
Yet, I remember seven years ago
his curls when I bore him to breast,
and fed him into a peaceful rest.

In the dark haze before sunrise, I awake to work.
Weave my sandals tight and high on my calves;
My tunic, short and stark, unadorned and Spartan.
I draw water from the well and bake the bread in halves.
One for me and one for him, to reconcile my every sin.

D.Goodman
Laconic contest

Fire Dancing

In Bulgaria, the Nestinari touched me when I was a child
high above the arm to hold, something new and something old.
She said, "Your feet were meant to walk the fire."
A plain proposition I did not understand; I liked the
	acrobats, flying and walking the wire.

She asked my permission and I granted it unknowing
that my path diverged that night, cool coals on the ground and
Early morning on the rise, I see more than just shadows now.
In Bulgaria, we walk the fire and our feet do not burn-
	in twenty-years time, it will be my turn.

In a trance I spin and the music pumps loud,
"Aye dance", faster like Giselle; and sparks fly 
as I kick the soil, embers in the air;
	just putting on a show for the crowd.

The glory of tradition passed into me; the fury and
the light; the cool of a glacier in my core.
In Bulgaria, we walk the fire and our feet do not burn-
twilight to daylight, there are always more steps to learn.

D.Goodman 11-26-13

Blooms In

I met someone once, who showed me why the flowers bloom;
And why it is so easy for buds to break through the early spring snow.

I was afraid, and said nothing.  Yet I am there, whenever I want to be, in that moment. 
My hand touches the cold snow and I can feel the earth is warm, underneath.

 I sweep the old grapevine leaves away, and feel with my hands for life renewing. The crocus and tulip bulbs gently break the surface of the soil and meet my hand. And I think, who were these people? Did they have dreams like me?

Time slows down for the longest moment, and I am captured in the truth of that moment. Crystalized forever, the imprint remains.

D.Goodman
A Brief Unforgettable Moment Contest
Contest date 12/2013

Benny Goodman, Band Leader

Benny Goodman, Band Leader


A letter was left in mailbox I wanted to see

Which had been only meant for me;

When I opened it and did read;

Was about a band someone did lead.


Last name was Goodman and first Benny;

Times we played together had been many;

For music he always had a natural knack;

Fans wanted him to keep coming back.


People would cheer and hands clap;

Him on his back would often slap;

Great music put you in the mood

After his band you heard and viewed.


Now that the days have all gone by,

And here at home I often cry;

Many happy times there had been;

Wish God would bring him back again.


jthorn5656@atmc.net

Early Morning Harmony

Danced with
Conceived and born
Sung to and nursed
On a downy soft quilt

Transfused with
Vibrations of Ellington
Basie, Crosby, Waller
Goodman and Armstrong

Skyrocketed spiritually 
By Kern and Carmichael
Porter, Gershwin and Berlin

Thanks Mom and Dad
For the beautiful music
We made together
On that bed of downy softness

Tonite

(this brownarmed girl will sleep
with goodman)

testing the white waters at lunch
she in a blushless
cheesecloth frock
chaperoned by one vased fuchsia forget
me not

coyly sipping cantharis tea
verbalizing
circling a triangle
words slipping from breath moistened lips
like fire thirsty moths quenched by flame
washing their hands
clean of angelcake memories

she keeps a picture by his bed
a stranger and the children
in sun day best
& each night is the longest month of the year

It's All About the Benjamins

Affleck, Bailey, Banneker, Bernanke, Big, Blue,

Button, Crenshaw, Disraeli, Dover, Folds, Franklin, 

Gazzara, Goodman, Graham, Harper, Harrison, Hogan, 

Kingsley, Johnson, Kweller, Netanyahu, Parsons, 

Roethlisberger, Spock, Stein, Stiller, Turpin, Uncle, Vereen, 

… and Jerry

Move On

You've moved on...... so why can't I?
Why do i have 2 be left behind 
where no one can see me?
In the darkness...where you left me
I try to skip to the next point but I cant
my friends tell me to get up on my own two feet
and stand there with Confidence
but I just don't know how
When i take one step out of the darkness
i end up right to the beginning again
i don't want to be in this postition
i want to be in the light with everyone else
One day i'll be there smiling
with my head up high
and my hands on ma hips
and that day you'll walk pass me and feel my
Confidence......
You'll feel it....like a powerful wind
and then you'll ask yourself
what is this?
and then you'll say
It's all because I
Move On 
                                                                           by Richan Goodman-2-11-2009

Bought With Gold,Sold On Green ,Wrote In Blood

where go those men with dignified eye's
who stand against the wall facing a volley of fire
ready to drop dead,blind folded and bound
all knowing and waiting for destiny's sound
where goe's the justice promised us all
for there aint no justice in where these men fall
the crime they committed was to stand for their right's
but corporate suit's don't stand in the fight
don't stand for no cause less it's golden or green
sat counting their money in number's obscene
they're building their bridges over city's and town's
and all in their way become's dust on the ground
so take to the bank's and withdraw all your cash
spend it on  freedom and have the last laugh
the world and it's structure will fall into flame's
afterward's Goodman will build it again
the same men blindfolded and stood against the wall
will pick up their brother's from were once they fall
will pick up their shovel's ,hammer's and nails
and search on together for a new holy grail.

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