You speak like the words are tripping over your tongue, boy, like your brain’s runnin’ too fast to share all your street joy, your mental agility, your linguistic ability- – – – – it silences me. I cannot compete, you’ve been doin’ it for years, listenin’ to those MCs, they’re controllin’ like masters, freestylin’ with fluidity, there ain’t no rigidity, shoutin’ over ghetto blasters – – – – – you’re a tough act to come after. So I ain’t rhymin’, or reasonin’, or trying to emulate, you win hands down, boy. I dig it.
Watching drum and bass MCs spit words like broken teeth sends me crazy.
This week, on dVerse Meeting the Bar, Bjorn is our benevolent bartender and he has cordially invited us to indulge in haibun (prose, followed by haiku), but he also invites us to test and distort the tradition. I think that I have broken all the rules, apart from using 17 syllables in the closing line, which is in the style of an American Sentence – because I love, love, love Allen Ginsberg, I couldn’t resist. And, because I spent some time last night watching a drum & bass DJ and MC on an internet radio station, I threw rhyme and rhythm into my (not quite) prose section.
Poetry is all about breaking the rules, right? I hope you enjoy it 🙂
Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to this challenge.
Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Form for All – why not take a look at everyone else’s wonderful responses?
This piece was inspired by my journey home from work this evening – after a particularly long and tiring day at work. I literally squeezed every ounce out of what was left of my mental energy today to produce this rondeau – the first that I have ever knowingly written! I hope you enjoy it.
– Destination –
As the train rolls along the tracks Its rhythm soothes, bids us relax Our aching souls, our weary minds That chew on cares enough to bind Our beating hearts, encased in wax.
With no real love, spirits contract Hands of friendship are pulled back Metal-clad world, we are confined As the train rolls
Sinking bodies, fall, collapse On threadbare seats, like formless sacks Smiling in sleep, we bring to mind Our joys and hopes, bright pleasures find The tunnel’s end brings light, perhaps As the train rolls
brother believe in your silver-spangled skill-set stand on the shore, survey the scene let your guitar sing, reverberate those rhythms play it again boy, play it with ease
brother believe in your power and your glory step all aboard, anchors set free dive into those oceans, manipulate that music play it all night boy, play with the breeze
brother believe, bring back your tall tales return to the harbour, head held high hold fast to the memories, they’ll last you a lifetime play with your youth boy, play and believe.
This is in honour of my young brother Doug, who sets off today for Barcelona and beyond, playing his guitar and delighting cruise passengers aplenty. He’s a jazz muso, so this fits perfectly. Dead proud of you little bro, dead proud.
Thank you, dVerse for the timely inspiration. Enjoy many, many more jazz-inspired poems here.