Come Blow Your Horn Poem by Dorothy (Alves) Holmes
Come Blow Your Horn
He puts down his regular ax, his saxophone,
And begins to blast away on his shinny new thing,
Sopranio...
He closes his eyes, fingers flying and we start
To grove to sweltering sounds that carress our ears.
Give the drummer some!
Play drummer! Play!
Whoa, bass man, whoa!
Let us catch up!
We are going crazy,
Grooving to your melodious noises,
Tranquilizing, satisfying!
We uncoil to your sound,
You'er making us high man!
You'er making us high!
Strum bass man, strum!
Your fingers eating away on steel strings...
Drummer, you set our brains afire!
Mad Cap!
I don't know the name of the tune,
But, hell, who cares!
Blow!
Strum!
Beat us until we die of pure pleasure!
(April 29,1978/Joe Clarke Trio at 'No Fish Today'
Club on Eutaw Street/Baltimore, Maryland)
I don't like the haiku stuff and your short writings are less than stellar but your long writing is very good. My basic feeling is that there needs to be more. But hey, I can't complain about what you do put on paper. I call it prose. But what's in a name? Rather unique I'd say. GW62
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:14:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Another delightful read. I love the words you made up. I like to do that, too, sometimes. Loved this one. kate