Same Title Challenge-Jazz Edition

[darkmaas]

It’s been a while since we had a spin at a Same Title Challenge.

Fellow erotopoeticians may have noticed the unseemly hold that Jazz has on the musical taste of at least this corner of Literotica. (It is a pleasure to welcome a wee dram of operatic sensibility thanks to Perdita. One day a sweet nubile who shares darkmass’ enjoyment of pre-renaissance choral work will saunter aboard and fog up his cathode ray tube. I digress.)

A paradox that I’ve observed is that, although poets seem to gravitate towards jazz, jazz lyrics themselves are often quite banal. The blues on the other hand, with a closely structured musical form, often has lyrics with much more poetic merit. (Now put away the flamethrowers. I am generalizing of course, but feel free to comment while awaiting the muse to strike.)

A while back, Angeline told me of a jazz singer of some merit, Monday Michiru. Angeline learned of Miss Michiru from (I believe) one of the many smithpeter incarnations. Anyway, I have an perverse interest in J-pop, so went hunting the elusive Monday. The only locally available example of her work was a 1996 issue of a CD called “Delicious Poison”. She is indeed a treasure but the CD suffers from a derivative back-up band. I am told that her more recent work is earth moving.

The title however has stuck in my mind... soooo... without further ado...

“Delicious Poison”

...is this weeks same title challenge. Those wishing to add to the title may extend the title to the right. (“Delicious Poison in His Whiskey” is acceptable. “A Snootful of Delicious Poison” is not.)

Post your offerings next Sunday for general enjoyment on Monday, 23rd of June.

Feelin' syncopated,

darkmaas

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Delicious.

 

[Angeline]

Ok. I'm in, and I'm not even starting the conversation about how one determines where the blues end and jazz begins. And I know someone else by the way who also loves pre-Rennaissance choral music, but he's no sweet young thang and he looooves fishing. Uh-huh. *That* should make you nervous. Or maybe me.

 

[Guest]

Count me in. please.

Also, add another pre-renaissance music fan to the growing list.

I'm just immersing myself in the pure sounds of Andrea Scholl ~ wonderful counter tenor.

 

[darkmaas]

Angeline:

I'm not even starting the conversation about how one determines where the blue end and jazz begins.

The question was not about the boundary between jazz and blues but the relative poetic merit (or lack thereof) of jazz lyrics. Other poets have posted threads dedicated to understanding the notion (or even the existence) of Poetic Merit. Understanding the jazz paradox could perhaps shed light on the inner workings of a poet's mind.

Pontifically,

darkmaas

P.S. "Sit still while I pop the top off your head and shine this light in. It shouldn't hurt a bit."

 

[Angeline]

I don't think it's a paradox. You want lyrics?

 

[Angeline]

Jazz Lyrics

Each of these songs is considered a jazz standard. Ok, they're not John Milton, but they're not so prosaic either. I didn't even get to Cole Porter or Ira Gershwin. And I could go on. Now will you kindly replace the top of my head?


Exhibit A: Lush Life

I used to visit all the very gay places
Those come-what-may places
Where one relaxes on the axis of the wheel of life
To get the feel of life
From jazz and cocktails.

The girls I knew had sad and sullen gray faces
With distingue traces
That used to be there -- You could see where they'd been washed away
By too many through the day
Twelve o'clock tales

Then you came along with your siren song
To tempt me to madness
I thought for a while that your poignant smile
Was tinged with the sadness
Of a great love for me.
Ah yes, I was wrong.
Again, I was wrong.

Life is lonely again,
And only last year, everything seemed so sure.
Now life is awful again,
A trough full of hearts could only be a bore.

A week in Paris will ease the bite of it
All I care is to smile in spite of it

I'll forget you, I will
While yet you are still
Burning inside my brain
Romance is mush
Stifling those who strive
I'll live a lush life in some small dive
And there I'll be, while I rot with the rest
Of those whose lives are lonely too.



Exhibit B: Stardust

And now the purple dusk of twilight time,
Steals across the meadows of my heart.
High up in the sky the little stars climb,
Always reminding me that we're apart.

You wander down the lane and far away,
Leaving me a song that will not die.
Love is now the stardust of yesterday;
The music of the years gone by

Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song.
The melody haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration.
But that was long ago;
Now my consolation,
Is in the stardust of a song.

Beside a garden wall,
When stars are bright --
You are in my arms.
The nightingale tells his fairy tale,
Of paradise where roses bloom.
Though I dream in vain,
In my heart it will remain,
My stardust melody,
The memory of love's refrain.


Exhibit C: The Very Thought of You

The very thought of you, and I forget to do,
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do.
I'm living in a kind of daydream,
I'm happy as a king.
And foolish though it may seem,
To me that's everything.

The mere idea of you, the longing here for you,
You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you.
I see your face in every flower,
Your eyes in stars above --
It's just the thought of you,
The very thought of you, my love.

 

[darkmaas]

Filler - blahblahblah

Now will you kindly replace the top of my head?

Not so fast. All you've demonstrated is that there are several poetic jazz lyrics. That I concede.

What I was angling for was a nice back door entry into a discussion about poetic merit, while we fill time waiting for the collective poetic juices (or muses) to manifest themselves as...

"Delicious Poison"

However the issue of merit is being "taken in hand" (so to speak) next door at Croissant's thread. Bravo to Lauren and Angeline for the theoretical analysis and thanks to Eve for providing the "Practicum".

Respectful as always,

darkmaas

 

[Floater]

Delicious Poison

Out on Bohemian boulevard
Friends are few
Times are hard
Faces fade & face the ground

Out on Bohemian Boulevard
What little flesh is left
Is scarred
The taste of it is all around:

Delicious poison
Keeps me sweet
Don’t need to talk
Don’t need to eat
Don’t need the friend
I haven’t got
Delicious poison
Hits the spot.




(Don't know where I'll be on Sunday.)

 

[darkmaas]

Well, thanks in advance.

 

[Maria2394]

sex polishes the mind?

Love your quote Darkmaas...
soo, that means, my mind is a platinum, diamond cut, reflecting the sun into your eyes till you implode, mirror then..hmm, interesting

 

[darkmaas]

darkmaas imploding?

Sounds like a lot of polish. Good thing we're not sitting in a smokey bar. I'd feel compelled to order you a drink...

darkmaas

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Just a reminder that tomorrow is the day.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

My Delicious Poison is submitted.

 

[Guest]

Mine too, I can still hear that lonely saxophone....

 

[Cordelia]

I submitted mine just now...

I hope it's not too late.


Cordelia

 

[oxalis]

off cuff

Delicious Poisonish

she is delicious
as he is
hand holder
all that beauty is distraction
all that delightful plinking flow
the 88’s
too pop
sucks the wisdom of real world stuff
she sucks and looks kinda cute
there is many ways to bend time and leisure
so go and waste it
at her, wait for monday

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Delicious Poison by Floater ©

Delicious Poisonish by oxalis ©

Delicious Poison by Cordelia ©

Delicious Poison by Angeline ©

Delicious Poison by Lauren.Hynde ©

Delicious Poison by guilty pleasure ©

delicious poisoned by svelte walker ©


Off to read them all. I'm feeling strangely darkmaasless, though...

 

[darkmaas]

Fear not Lauren!

I am returned after 4 days of high stress living. (No, it wasn't a sordid binge, and I'm not in the drunk tank.)

A thousand apologies to all for failing so miserably at my own challenge. As atonement for my sins, reviews will be coming down the pipe as soon as I catch my breath.

However miracles seem to be happening at the Orgasm thread. Go read while you wait. Who would have thought...

Darkmaas.

 

[darkmaas]

The REVIEWS

What a delicious effort. Again my apologies to those who played for not keeping up with you.

I won't bother with URLs, Lauren has kindly done the heavy lifting (again). Just look two posts up.


Delicious Poison by Floater ©

What little flesh is left
Is scarred
The taste of it is all around:

This poem has a delicious decadence. Almost makes me salivate.


Delicious Poisonish by oxalis ©

Oxalis seems to know Monday personally. This poem should be the liner notes for the CD. Either that or darkmaas is in way over his critical head.


Delicious Poison by Cordelia ©

Run, don’t wait for the review and paste a 5 on this poem. Cordelia at her best with lovely imagery and that ambiguity that made me read it several times.


Delicious Poison by Angeline ©

After the poetic lecture on abstract orgasms, I am nervous about reviewing poems by Angeline. One day she’ll write a clanging turd but today is not the day. A sweet if slightly melancholy look at “modern” love. Read it and enjoy.


Delicious Poison by Lauren.Hynde ©

Lauren gives us an almost prosy take on the primal power of words. Read it and wish for the chance to vote twice.


Delicious Poison by guilty pleasure ©

Ah the forbidden lure of the young femme fatale. Watch out Rybka! This poem has hooks.

Her eyes meet yours and glisten.
She has you on her hook!

delicious poisoned by svelte walker ©

Darkmaas in his youth played tuba. It is therefore refreshing to see this instrument in a mildly erotic role. This poet has a deliciously eccentric sense of fun.

exactly who are those ladies standing
way back there within ear shout power
left and perpendicular
centering
centering
is that a tuba?

Respectfully,

darkmaas

 

[Angeline]

Thank You darkmaas

Excellent reviews--I concur, especially on Cordelia's amazing effort. I shall attempt to perservere in my effort to avoid writing clanging turds.

Your devoted and (non-clanging) friend,
A.