Anything can be the starting point for a poem. Recently I was driving along listening to a Hank Mobley cd, it was hot so I had the windows open and because of the turbulence of the moving air I could not hear the bass solo. This led to the thought that the wind had stolen the bass solo, which in turn led to this poem.
it was love at first note
the wind and the bass solo eloped
straight out of the window of my car
[I was crossing the bridge
but this is their story not mine]
gently held in the breeze
seven miles out bopping on the sea
the notes rearrange as they please
delighting the dolphins with their atonality
That's how it works. One thing sparks off another and if you are lucky, if you are receptive and if you can manage to express the idea then the poem grows on the page. Usually cause and effect are not so easily demonstrated. In this case I spent several days mulling the idea over in my head before writing it down. Once on the page the real work begins.
Ryley Walker was his usual amazing self last Friday. However I feel I have to end with Hank.
Until next time.