Ella sent the invitation
Louis worked the door
to celebrate between the lines
inflection served du jour
My heart was given freely
their phrasings lined my soul
beyond the words and melody
goodbye to rock and roll
The Saints Were Marching In
as Satch blew his horn with glee
(and Ella said)
No, No They Can’t Take That
— Away From Me
(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)
Categories:
phrasings, music,
Form: Rhyme
many fearless nights, I prowled
on rooms of grimy paper dimmed then
lit by this lone wayfarer searching
a gush of passion to feed the words
with some fire, rawness, and hunger...
perhaps my barren soul tarried on to pay
for dues upon a bleeding ink's return;
and now that this antique pen wants
to let you relish my verses, chew them
and swallow fluid visions like a dash of wine,
I feel they are mute: my own instinct
likes phrasings that haunt the senses...
but as twilight whisks, these hands fake
a churning from the bile...I have everything
to lose, except the rush of images
splashing my face with inspiration.
Kai Michael Neumann's Splash Contest
6/4/2020
Categories:
phrasings, imagination, recovery from, writing,
Form: Imagism
~*~
Words became art
fractur'd phrasings
‘pon parchment glass slippers
darkly dancing
when she wielded her pen
posy paint'd notions
on butterfly wings
taking our minds
a'whirling senses
midst mesmeric illusions
dizzying zephyr’d vistas
'neath arbor'd enchantment
hot cuppa whispers
whilst inky stanzas
of creative breaths
exhale’d poetry
Written in the style of a very dear
poetic friend from my past who I greatly admired
Categories:
phrasings, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Pictures at an Exhibition
I recently saw the ghosts of beat poet visionaries
staring lonely, from pictures at an exhibition
Ginsburg, Corso, Snyder, Kerouac, and Cassady
the murderer’s row of the desolation angels line-up
smoking cigarettes on dingy New York fire escapes
eyes squinting into the brutal mid-day sun of Tangiers
chanting Buddhist mantras in Golden Gate Park
posed with arms around each other in Mexico City
with the fires of holy imagination burning in their faces
My heroes, the ones that lit my blaze of spirit
and urged me to write with their heat and passion
burdened souls, searching out the mysteries
of rhythm and god hidden inside hip, jazz phrasings
My heart swelled with gratitude
and for a moment, they were friends
ghosts grown much larger than life
urging me to walk in their footsteps…
Categories:
phrasings, joy,
Form: Free verse
The slow phrasings of one of Miles' children
leads me to believe that there are niches
that each can fill like a band of brethren.
One carves a melody, one sows the riches
of an under beat, another comps the chords
and changes, one waits his turn and reflects
and reacts. All move together, no lords
here, a community that respects
talent and covers the failings of each.
No community, we all flail about
finding the niche that we think we should reach.
With no context to move, we move with doubt,
each one intent on proving that each
one's talent or skill should lead the march.
Categories:
phrasings, allegory, allusion,
Form: Sonnet
Poet me. Writer me. I must think
I extend my story, to know it
The instrument I utilize, scroll quill & ink
Are my accepted method writ
With these, I see, the sayings
That be, composed and planned
The power of my imagination phrasings
Write in tune within my command
Inked profound through rhythmical flow
Carving the rhythms of my each line
Garlanded day by day, my deep rooted scroll
I compose my story, by my own one of a kind mind
Categories:
phrasings, poetry,
Form: Quatrain
He is my poet friend
I know his voice
through the stroking of his pen
A kind-hearted gentle giant,
who towers above lesser humans
His compassion has made him grow
into a mountain of benevolence
I do not know him personally,
but I feel I know him very well
Kindred spirits
have this unique ability,
we can always tell
one of our own
Possessing hope unsullied ... faith full-blown
He's like a wise king to me,
someone who enjoys walking amongst the people,
more than sitting on his throne
This is why he is my poet friend
I'm soothed by his voice
through the stroking of his pen
Aaah, yes ... his poetry
This distinctive voice is what first attracted me,
made me ponder deep things
Made me laugh at human foibles
with his articulate phrasings
I am humbled that he considers me
as one of his poet friends
This simply reveals the heart of the man,
it's big enough to let most anyone in
A tribute to my beloved friend, Richard Lamoureux
Categories:
phrasings, friend, poets, tribute, voice,
Form: Free verse
Reluctantly, I'm ascending stairs. . .
Sensations of a dreadful cold
Permeate my trembling skin.
Through the window the moonlight glares.
My footsteps falter, but I'm growing bold,
And my climb begins again.
Darkness grips me with its wicked claws.
Something lies concealed.
I hear my heart beating frantically;
A dark foreboding gives me pause.
Consumed by it, my spirit chills;
I must unveil what hides from me. . . .
* My daughter,Angela Hobbs, who is writing a novel based
loosely on her first marriage, had me collaborate with her
on this poem that is the introduction to her novel named
"Confidentially Yours" and which is done in form of letters
written to a fictionalized friend. Angela dabbled in poetry
in high school and I am thrilled to see her sprinkling poems
into her novel. Praying it will be able to be published one day.
I still need to get started on MINE!! BTW: both stanzas are
ours. It was her idea and I helped a lot with the phrasings.)
For PD's: COLLABORATE WITH YOUR MATE~A FRIEND~ or ~FAMILY MEMBER...
not soup member Poetry Contest
Categories:
phrasings, mystery, me, me, high
Form: Free verse