POEM: Threadgill’s birds

Posted 31 January, 2011 in Jazz, Music, My poems, Poetry

Listen to this poem using the player above.

Inspired by “Fee Fi Fo Fum” from The Complete Novus And Columbia Recordings Of Henry Threadgill & Air.

Threadgill’s birds

an ocean of crows flows overhead
wings beating black against the coming night
I see them in small sections through
the window, missing its valance

Henry Threadgill plays the flute
and a disembodied woman’s voice is singing
notes looping around one another like
sparrows swooping after unseen bugs

stone #31

Posted 31 January, 2011 in aros, My poems, Poetry, Stones

Listen to this poem using the player above.

NOTE: Today is the last official day of a river of stones, but I’m going to try to write one of these a day for all of 2011. Wish me luck!

/ / /

I am slipping downhill on a frozen sidewalk
windmilling my arms to keep from falling

tomorrow, this may all be different
the heart beats, the heart stops beating — that is change

/ / /

part of a river of stones

stone #30

Posted 30 January, 2011 in aros, My poems, Poetry, Stones

Listen to this poem using the player above.

/ / /

like a dam breaking on high ground
water rushing into the city

when the people are ready
even the mightiest flee

/ / /

part of a river of stones

POEM: January 25, 2011

Posted 30 January, 2011 in My poems, Poetry, Politics & Activism

Listen to this poem using the player above.

This poem begins with a quote from Egyptian TV host Ahmad El Esseily. (via this article)

January 25, 2011

“The regime
has been
            convincing us
very well
that we cannot do it
            but Tunisians
gave us an idea
and it took us
only three days
            and we did it.”

and like that, the curtain
of sand came down

in Tahrir Square the people
tens of thousands of the people
chanted

Muslims!
            Christians!
We are all
            Egyptians!

and like that, another iron-
hearted scarecrow fled
to his hotel room

where only
his most trusted
            retainers remained
to tell him he was
right, he would return

for this was no longer his land
these people no longer his people

in this land of slaves and slave owners
there is a history of breaking shackles

sometimes      one      link      at      a      time

sometimes allatonce

POEM: old couple in the therapist’s elevator

Posted 29 January, 2011 in Albany, My poems, Poetry

I found this one in my notebook. I wrote it back in November after witnessing this scene.

old couple in the therapist’s elevator

she says “dirty rotten elevator”
he doesn’t even sigh anymore
just presses 2
puts his head down
kneads the brim of his gray-
checked fedora with one
arthritic hand

stone #29

Posted 29 January, 2011 in aros, My poems, Poetry, Stones

Listen to this poem using the player above.

/ / /

there aren’t actually
just four walls here
but you get the idea

/ / /

part of a river of stones

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