April already?! The month to celebrate both Poetry & Jazz, they say. Awesome Possum!! 😉
On the jazz front- I just finished a jazz and blues course at the JazzSchool, Berkeley- an intensive taught by musicians of the Montclair Women’s Big Band. Amazing teachers & inspiration from an all female crew of instructors! How cool was that! It was a serious intensive, packed with classes for improv, ensemble, vocals, all instruments, and performance- with a culminating concert last Friday night. Whew! Rewarding and exhausting both. I posted a whole photo album on FB here. These are some of my favorite pics.
For poetry, I’m happy to reconnect to a daily writing/posting habit again this year. I think I’ve been running about 17 poems/month in past years, with daily posting being my greatest challenge. So this year, I aim to do better; to post more often, shorter, and more immediate, less worked over bits. Because that is what it’s about, yes?- quantity and NOT perfection; leaving the critic in the dust. Just writing. Just poetry! It’s posting from the road that’s tough for me…
I’m on Twitter now! @TaraLindaMusic , & hope to use that as a tool for nano writing.
I will post a page of prompts soon- but so far, I’ve begun to warm up with my own 52/365 poem prompt, and I’ll be starting with prompts from life, the NaPoWriMo site, and the Sunday Whirl. Post your prompts here so I can discover more! Poets- leave your links so that I can drop by and enjoy your Muses too.
Poem 1: Perpetual
Just words, she says
a stretch of meaning scrawled
across the sidewalk, over a curb
under a street, faint calls to an
underworld, to deviants, or raccoons
whoever trembles first.
What was lost in March is found
in April, curbside, nestled deep because nothing
dies when shared perpetually, he says- twirling
circles, eddies, gyres around us, out and back into
all those places a train might scour before midnight.
Change the Absconder, rolling and heaving,
winds past poppies and dandelions on its way to create
something better: era, master, poet, fuse-
syllabic truths growing straighter than weeds-
She calls to him
Just words, to die for.
Prompt: Wordle 100