ELLINGTON The Duke’s patrician mother passed in May of nineteen thirty-fi ve. His calling, even then, was cast, but composing took a nosedive. He fi lled her hearse with fl owers, sorrowing in his solitude. He bore a battleground of powers. Then came, “In a Sentimental Mood.” Its dancers took the tune from there, and spread its spell from coast to coast, stepping to it with such style, such fl air that many c1ubbers could but toast. My folks did the fox-trot to his band, in Depression-dizzy Dallas,— Deep Ellum,1 where colored folks could stand. Saw his show in Tyler’s Palace.2 Ghost trains would trumpet past our home, passing its porch with Pullman cars that carried white folks to and from towns with names like Texarkana. Those evening trains were lit like stars . . . all the way to Corsicana. My dad would play on our piano, plunking out some boogie’s bitter bars. A railroad clerk, he ran with woe, drugging that journey with his gin . . . Born for Christ in nineteen thirty-fi ve, I bear a cross of love within, to help somebody’s heart survive. Our darkest years saw Duke’s comeback. For Duke would joy his band with jive, trumpeting his “A Train” on Love’s track. 1Deep Ellum is on Elm Street in Dallas, Texas. 2the only black theater in Tyler, Texas. October 17, 2009 Remembered Names 139 ON ELLINGTONIA If you dig elegance, his music is your mistress. Take the A Train to dance up in Harlem, with fi nesse,— if only in memory; it’s in my solitude, in my soul’s reverie. In a sentimental mood I’m moving, I’m praying: “Dear Lord, in heaven above, keep us sweetly swaying to Ellington’s deep groove.” Johnny Hodges is so hip,— when he swings “Warm Valley,”— that he’ll take you on a trip to glory, to God’s alley; he’ll give you a poet’s tip: “It don’t mean a thing, man, if it ain’t got that swing— a fantasy, black and tan!” Such love is everlasting. The Duke would love you madly! For his sound is so haunting, as we glide to it, gladly. November 9, 2009
... Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, ... A Noiseless Patient Spider A noiseless patient spider, I mark'd where on a ...
An anthology of some of the best English poems.
Combining journal entries, poetry and formal e-mails, these books celebrate the sights, sounds, flavors, (and the physical and mental strain), of crossing mountains, rolling landscapes, and unchanged rural villages, as well as vibrant ...
There are no Formal E-mails, no Definitions, no Autobiography or Research here. And because of all that it is not, this book completes those first two in the pilgrimage series in a gentle way.
Karen Freeman! Was born August 22, 1950 in Newark New Jersey. She had a “BRIGHT” daughter named Kira. She Married Warren W. C. Freeman March 1, 1998. They were married for 13 years and 20 days. She “PASSED-ON” March 21, 2011.
Winner of the Massachusetts Book Award "A terrific and sometimes terrifying collection—morally complex, rhythmic, tough-minded, and original." —Rosanna Warren, 2018 Barnard Women Poets Prize citation In a poetic voice at once accessible ...
O. D. Macrae Gibson points out that the function of pyȝt as a concatenating word stresses its capacity to mean both arrayed and set.8 Gordon glosses the word as varying in sense throughout the poem between “set,” “fixed,” and “adorned” ...
This riveting poetry collection is a fresh and witty account of thoughts and experiences that everyday people have in their day-to-day lives.
SELL. IT. SOMEWHERE. ELSE. Well, you can take your good looks somewhere else Cuz they're not for sale 'round here... I've heard about you and the things you do And I don't need you anywhere near. Yeah, I've met your kind a time or two ...
I was indeed fortunate in being able to recruit a pair of talented , conscientious , and unfailingly cheerful draftsmen in the persons of Julie Baker and Kathi Donahue ( now Sherwood ) to collaborate with my wife , Sally , in producing ...