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Improvijazzation Nation poetry - Issue # 66
CALL for SUBMISSIONS!!!
ALL artists! I am very, VERY happy to announce that IMPROVIJAZZATION NATION is ACCEPTING SUBMISSIONS again. I have been granted a (possibly long-term) stay of execution for my trip to Iraq. I will still be traveling all over the U.S., so new issues may be a little less timely, but (as always), we will review your materials as soon as possible after we receive them. Look at the guidelines for submission below, please:
MUSIC: All formats accepted. Snail mail to: Zzaj Productions, c/o Dick Metcalf, 5308 65th Avenue, Lacey, WA 98513 The only criteria for music you submit is that it MUST HAVE high performance energy... if you submit lacklustre material, it will be reviewed accordingly
POETRY: Poems are accepted for publication ONLY via e-mail. Poems submitted in any other fashion will NOT be published. Poetry that includes some reference to music is granted first priority for publication.
BOOKS: We will review some books; books about music are PREFERRED. We will NOT return any books submitted for review. Snail them to the address listed above for MUSIC.
DIY Announcements: We will post your (e-mailed) ad about DIY projects, regardless of genre or medium... HOWEVER, this is ONLY for INDEPENDENTS... if you are a corporation, don't even BOTHER sending stuff... it will be marked and reported as SPAM!
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Your splinters of light
Pierce me, wake me.
The slivered moon,
Sinking, growing as it goes;
So little seen;
So much implied.
The slow-falling star,
A sight for four eyes
In western sky so bright.
Now falling, shedding light,
Then fading through an unseen horizon.
Wake me with wonder
From my wool-wrapped
Winter slumber.
Pierce me with light
Arousing my senses
To Your unfathomed mystery.
I would live awake to You,
Walking peacefully
In the promise of
Splinters of light.
Splinters of Light
June 19, 2004
Geri Rosser
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A
human body (network of tone and vibration)
has thirty-three vertebrae-
seven cervical (ROYGBIV) (or, if you prefer,
C D E F G A B)
twelve dorsal
(C C# D D# E F F# G G# A A# B)
five lumbar (fingers of one hand)
five sacral (fingers of another)
four coccygeal (2+2=4, but here my theory
is less certain--two hand + two feet? two eyes +
two ears? right ear + left brain + left ear + right brain?)
you'll have to figure this out on your own.
(after all, these numbers are in your spinal column,
too.)
(it is the listener who makes the music,
alone.)
Andrew
Penland, 2004
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have
you ever seen video footage
of astronauts eating on the space shuttle?
when they pour a liquid, it becomes
a sphere
and floats through the zero-g
capsule
until it comes to rest in an astronaut's mouth.
I dream of space shuttles
with genius kids
rambunctiously playing,
building liquid pianos with white-out and
shoepolish, each droplet of a key
floating through the vacuum,
each silent note
chasing the next.
Andrew Penland, 2004
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The Reason I Sing
You sang a song for me today
It'll stay with me
Till my dying day
I will never forget
Never forget you
Talking on the phone
Fish and rice soup
They were all you
You got me to sing
Thank you
The reason i sing
Grandpa, It was you
All you
So,
"If you get to heaven before i do,
Coming for to carry me home
Please tell my friends im coming there too
Coming for to carry me home
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Eleven
We
were monsters
And
we were swimming
Into
our futures
We
were children
Swimming
in a pool
That
July day
The
adults faded away
Testing
our bravery
Testing
our skills
Testing
our selves
Marco
Polo –
Discovering
the world
Jets
soaring overhead
Labrador
lumbering by
All
surveying our island
Then
the fireworks
On
the coal-black horizon
For
us, for our youth
Wrapped
in towels
Feeling
magical
Not
wanting the day
To
end
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4
Towers
four
piles of CDs sit upon my bar
a
collection of worldly music – mostly
rock,
some jazz
some
blues, too – British Beck, and BB King
and other Fathers
eject
the tray for a new selection
place
disc in carefully
push
play &
listen
(to
think) entire Songs collected
on this disc:
spontaneous
solos, sleepless-night compositions,
near-suicidal sufferings,
self-therapy, soaring
odes to Nature, to Love, the
joy of living,
waves of crying, swoops
& swells
timeless
sounds, songs, syncopes of soul & spirit:
new sounds for
new times,
new souls
four
towers of gold sit upon my bar
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The
New Phalanx
Bring
on the New –
Clean the clutter
Dust
the dust
Roll
up sleeves
Scrub the rust
Uncover
radiant Truth
O Children,
Do
not be discouraged
You
are the New –
Rebuild, re-seed, redesign
anew!
-
Timothy Jos. Nelson
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