Frankie is Savoy

Savoy

Behold!
Frankie is Savoy. The bond
Of silence is upon him.
Old
And deep with memories, of slights and scorn,
And trampled on, yet all untamed;
All aged now, yet unbowed, --
The master of the young dance's prime,
Whose rhythms still laugh at Time,
And lifts to heaven the joy of movement,
Rests satisfied upon his fame.

Who shall say:
I taught swing to fly;
And fought abroad to preserve a freedom
I did not have at home,
Give it all up for family and community,
Then returned to teach the world to swing?

Yea, voices mutter about idle comparisons;
Singing of fast feet and celluloid fame,
New-born and known but yesterday.

--"Rhythm in Exile", Eshu Obatala

a year has passed
and still
the sky weeps

--tm

isle of outlawed dreams

on the isle
of outlawed dreams
at the end
of the rainbow
there the evening
sun rests

-tm

the muse teases

on writing poems

to me it flows in spurts
the muse teases and teases
then she abandons

I have a practice

I have a practice I use sometimes.
I don't dance to fast big band, I don't not dance to fast big band.
I don't do any patterns, I count no higher than me and you.
I just embrace my sweetie, drown in her eyes, follow the music.
This method can be used anywhere, anytime, does not require a particular
kind of music, dance floor, or clothing, and is truly effortless.
Thus dance becomes play.
-- Techniqueless Old Smoothie

Basie Swings

This Is Just To Say

that Count Basie

is the real
king of swing
with jo jones & freddie green
set the rhythmm free
and lester young
will always be prez

Forgive me
they swing so sweet
so hot
both yesterday
and today

variations on WCW

Ad for a Dance Partner

Ad for a Dance Partner

Must be someone I can like and respect
And who likes and respects me for me.

[Mutual attraction and respect
absolutely required]

And trust too.
Say, for example
That after a breakaway
you'll be ready to start
on phrase.

Someone who will carry their own weight
Yet will be there to provide support
when needed.

[Baby I can't leverage without you.]

Someone's who adult
yet not afraid
to let the little kid out
and play with me.

And yeah, did I mention true.
When we're dancing,
it's all about
me and you
Only.

-Jazzman-

J a z z m a n
(for Jayne Cortez)

you blow your soul through gold trumpets
whisper your flutters through the flute
you are sweet tonic mix of arpeggio and wine
how I wish you would play me that way/
that way you strum them strings under
ebony blue light smoky haze
that way how you moan soprano screams
in syncopated time
jazzman, each part of my body be a different instrument:

my leg: a saxophone
my spine: the piano
the soles of my feet: the drum
everything else babe is bass

by Jennifer E. Smith

Funky Butt Jass Dance Hall

Funky Butt Jass Dance Hall

ken burns jazz

started with buddy bolden at
the Funky Butt Dance Hall
it started earthy,
hope it stays there

started with improvisation
and individuality. with deep
deep roots in the blues.
blues, a simple structure, yet
art beyond just skill
cause it’s all about a feeling.

the feeling of a people who
chose to be joyful in a
sorrowful world. a new world,
with new relationships. or was it
so new.

‘what did we do to be so black and blue’

dissonance a way of life
in america. just playing the
natural feelings of a people
we kind of blue, but there’s
a trane a coming.

the shape of jazz to come? huh?
ornette, who is that lonely woman
she should be fine and mellow.
listen to Pres, it’s in the tilt
of his horn. hawk knows, cause
we love you baby, body and soul

listen to buhaina, he got the message.
meet me at the chicken shack
5am breakfast dances, saturday
night fish fries, rent parties
shout and holler, swing low
sweet cadillac, rhythm coming
for to take us back to the
funky butt jass hall.

–tm

Breakfast at Valerie's

Breakfast at Valerie's

Be sure to stay for the after party
cause the bluesing don't start
till after midnight when
the breakfast club crowd
starts to gather in the workshop
where the only glow is
moonlight and candles
and everyone came to
party till dawn
when breakfast is served
on the patio overlooking the lake
and the rising sun

Dancing with My Baby

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will smile at a hundred cuties
And not pick one.

I will look at Divas and Swedes
With quiet eyes,
Watch the leaders queue up for Virginie,
And see her smile.

But when the music begin to play
Straight from lindy hop heaven,
I will take my baby's hand,
And invite her to the dance!

apologies to ESVM

I ain't seen

I ain't seen no poems stop a .38,
I ain't seen no stanzas brake a honkie's head,
i ain't seen no metaphors stop a tank,
I ain't seen no words kill
& if the word was mightier than the sword
Pushkin wouldn't be fertilizing russian soil
& until my similes can protect me from a night stick
I guess i'll keep my razor
& buy more bullets.

Don L. Lee (Haki R. Madhubuti)

On the Nature of Truth

"People do not follow the same direction, like water."
Zulu saying

Those who claim the monopoly of truth
Blinded by their own discoveries of power,
Curb the thrust of their own fierce vision.
For there is not one eye over the universe
But a seething nest of rays ever dividing and ever linking.
The multiple creations do not invite disorder,
Nor are the many languages the enemies of humankind.
But the little tyrant must mould things into one body
To control them and give them his single vision.
Yet those who are truly great
On whom time has bequeathed the gift of wisdom
Know all truth must be born of seeing
And all the various dances of humankind are beautiful
They are enriched by the great songs of our planet.


Mazisi Kunene 1982
from The Ancestors and the Sacred Mountain

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

I Knew a Woman

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I'd have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek.)

How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and stand;
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin:
I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing did we make.)

Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved.)

Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:
I'm martyr to a motion not my own;
What's freedom for? To know eternity.
I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.
But who would count eternity in days?
These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:
(I measure time by how a body sways.)

Theodore Roethke

-The Gifts Divine-

But oh! they dance with poetry in their eyes
Whose dreamy loveliness no sorrow dims,
And parted lips and eager, gleeful cries,
And perfect rhythm in their nimble limbs.
The gifts divine are theirs, music and laughter;
All other things, however great, come after."

Negro Dancers- Claude McKay