Saturday, August 13, 2016

OTI:seven poems, notes, one illustration:8/13/16

Open To Interpretation

Time Was

Time was
My accompanist forget places in their piano part,
And I soured my trumpet's notes
For the audience that sat in silence,
But it was church
And applause not the custom.
Afterwards, handshakes and hugs,
For return engagement.


Men can be gentlemanly,
You know?
Sir Walter Raleighish,
Spread their coat over the mud puddle
For their lady's step,
But not without expectation!
If there's no glimmer,
Not even a photon,
Next time
They'll keep their coats on.

Who Am I

Who am I
To think again
What you thought
Or make again
What you wrought
Or teach again
What you taught
Or reach again
What you sought
Who am I again
Your love caught?


Triangles can represent relation,
They say,
One person for each side,
And the sides' lengths describe
What love is betide.
Like the fire triangle
We all knew in safety school,
Heat oxygen fuel,
Eternally hot
Or cool,
Make ignited
Love's flame caught.

Rocky Slope

Near Ishi's village
There was a small cave
In the forested rocky slope
The village backed up against,
And this Pet now called home,
And curled inside,
She was sleeping her kind's long winter sleep,
And dreamed dragon dreams,
Except, and this she found annoying,
When Petra woke her up
To fly Petra hither and yon
To the snowbound Humankind villages of Nevermore.
Ishi's fellow Villagers, only knowing Black Dragons
From when being traded,
Did what they always do,
And brought crafted treasures,
Along with driftwood logs from the Conifer Forest,
And set them at the entrance to Pet's cave.
In the Spring, Pet would awaken to the makings of a nest.


One butterfly
From the flock
Love caught,
'You rock!'


Having been there
And done that
You know?
I'm that too now,
And that's that.


Notes: Time Was...reference my trumpet playing in school band and orchestras from like sixth grade to my senior year in high school, when, in a thrown together pit band, I and my friends performed for an amateur musical production...I can't remember how it all went, but the music was more difficult to play than I could manage, and I hadn't even tried very hard, and I wasn't alone...the music was over the head of some of my band mates too...but we were trying to support our leader, and failed miserably...felt very bad of my last times playing...last, was high school commencement...pomp and circumstance for four years...enough of that, and I closed my trumpet case...there were other things was 1966...but those musical times came to mind going through the stored particular, a newspaper photo of the rag time band I was in with my band mates...that music was easier, and we did well as a vignette piece in band performances...and Tom was our leader, and after a performance, he told me I was too damn loud, which I took to heart and remember still!...Tom went on to become a very accomplished professional...Brian too, I find looking about the web...wonder how others did...and I'm glad my lackadaisicalness didn't trip them up! sure did me...:) had wanted to be a piano player, and accompanist in church performances...I think we did mom's and pop's funeral services, '92, '94, some still recalled...I didn't stay on with church going, they did, and to their credit...and pop was a sign painter, had taken art lessons from a white Russian refugee in Chicago like during or before was his ticket for getting a better job than pumping gasoline, or machining taking up trumpet was kind of mom's push...I took it up because my best friend had gotten a trombone, and we were always competing...musicians compete with one another, and that compulsion kept me going...I liked being first chair!...anyway, all the time as a kid I was making models, and drawing, and you would think, pop would have stepped in and given me art lessons...and worse, I had a private music teacher...three dollars for half hour once  a week...and a newspaper photo of him was in the stuff too, but not for his was about his giving watercolor lessons for the recreation department in Garden Grove...I'd never seen this, and didn't know, and heck, wish he'd given me art lessons!...between him and pop I had an art start!...sometimes we're so close to going this way or that...from Chicago in '52, family arrived for temporary stay in Gardena, and pop assessed homes in Garden Grove, and Newport Beach, both in the same price range...settled on Garden Grove, where I'm much settled now, same house, same room, where I built models and practiced my trumpet!....Who Am I...a goof, a tumble in the style of poet John Skelton...Puddle...a goof...studied out Sir Walter Raleigh...a gawdawful poet, but a fine adventurer!...Triangles...a goof, but I'm thinking on these rivalry triangles...didn't realize how really fundamental they are to story telling...and a curio is that mom encouraged my music, while pop more or less ignored my art efforts...later, I learned the maybe why for that...I worked for a summer as helper in a billboard factory with the sign painters and helpers...pop had gotten position then as union secretary...and it was a rough and tumble job in big city downtown Los Angeles...not a path to follow on on!...Rocky Slope...reference the Valley's rocky slopes/Camp 4!...Monarch...a goof...having done two poems with, 'love caught' and 'love's flame caught', I thought, to do another 'love caught'...checking the online rhyme dictionary, I pretty much exhausted 'ought' rhymes that tumbled together in the Who Am I sentiment...and I resorted to the dictionary again for something to go with 'flock'...'rock' a very popular pairing, and I used it, but with the sense of rock and roll praise...and that works!...That...a goof...I gotta lot of this and thats...Illustration...unfinished sketch on blue paper...



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